Nov. 16 2015
I'm in love with the idea of being in love but I am not in love with being in love
Because I never learned how to and each step I take feels like I'm falling deeper into an ocean of all the love I was never given as a child,
and I can't seem to find myself when I don't know what I'm searching for.
My parents told me I have time,
there is no rush to find your soulmate,
but what if the time is now and I don't even know it,
what if they aren't looking for their other half but just someone to booty call at 4 am when they're drunk and can't handle being alone.
What if my lover is echoed in rooms of everyone who's ever been heartbroken,
would I hear his voice?
Would it sound different, would it sound familiar,
the way I picture it in story books and romantic movies,
where girls fall for the right guy and everything's okay.
and he loves her, and she's so beautiful.
Since when did I have this story book picture in my mind about how it was supposed to be,
or how I was supposed to feel when he kissed me and how I didn't know I could say no.
I never got the storybook ending,
the happily ever after, it's not as easy as they make it out to be.
and I think we need to stop romanticizing something that takes a whole part of us when it ends,
because there's something about love and the magic it possesses,
that when it ends, it destroys.
I am still searching for what you took.
Love breaks parts of you, you didn't even know you had,
it takes and it takes,
the destruction of love is the most horrible thing I have ever been apart of.
I have individually taken someone's heart and held it in my hand and I dropped it without turning back,
I ran as fast as I could.
I looked at love as if it was the deadliest criminal I had ever known, and I didn't want it to be found,
I wanted it to stay away because there was no prize to be found, no reward at the end.
My love couldn't be protected behind bars, it slipped away through the cracks it got away on bail.
And as it slipped, so did I, but I slipped through the ground.
I became a version of myself I didn't even know, I looked in the mirror and saw a skeleton starring back at me.
People asked me if I was happy, and I gave them the false answer they wanted.
I said I was fine, they didn't know I was fighting a battle in my mind.
People are only curious for themselves, they don't really care,
and it took me awhile to figure out we are all false positives, and that love is the bad guy you fall for who says all the right things,
and I am still running.
And if you'd like to know, yes I am doing fine,
I just can't handle having to leave my bed in the morning,
and I am surprisedat how long I've lasted.
They tell me it's poison, we don't collide anymore.
But his name still tastes as good as it sounds.