I have all these chaotic, clashing emotions of every kind inside me, and nowhere to put them or anything to do with them. I’m certain they’re going to drive me crazy.
But let me ask you this: how can you not think about something when you KNOW that it’s a constant part of you? When you know that it is your destiny and deepest desire to unite with someone and live a life together with them? This longing, yearning, burning desire to love someone deeply, a desire that simply cannot be shoved away somewhere no matter how hard you try. And asking me to do so only makes it burn brighter and more fierce. Like trying to cage a hungry lion, it will only become angrier and more fierce as its impatience stirs it around until it has its chance to escape, leaping out and threatening to destroy whatever is set in its path. But the few chances of freedom I had were taken away from me, and now this passion is trapped, and roaring to be set loose. That is how I feel.
Now tell me, how do you put away something that was never supposed to be bottled up in the first place?
I am about to break. And if I do, I won’t be the same.
How did it ever start? That’s what I wanna know. But I can’t remember. It’s been around for a long time, I know that much. And my thoughts just make it stronger. My thoughts and others letting me down. Until recently, I never understood how people can hold so much pain in without ever showing it to others outwardly. I see now how it’s possible. And like I said, I do have happiness, too. It’s just this weight…this burning…this black hole inside. HOW do I get rid of it? I don’t know. I can’t tell if having someone really would make it better or not. I hate sounding pathetic all the time, but I just need someone to understand. To understand me and my pain. And to love me. I no longer see how that will ever happen for me. I feel so dismal.
I’m just trying not to care anymore.
It feels like I pulled a spike from my heart. I’m trying my hardest to believe God has something good in mind for me. He takes care of everything else, and I never have to worry about anything else. Except this. Except for love, romance, someone to be with. I don’t know how I feel anymore. It’s a mixture of faith, anguish, optimism, pessimism, anger, envy, and longing, with a single twinge of hope. I mean, I guess I wouldn’t be given this heart if it was for nothing. There is a purpose for it. I just don’t know how long it will be, and that’s what kills me. But…there’s nothing I can do. Nothing except wait. I……………I just want to have an end to the story.
If you’re reading this, I’m not upset at you. I’ve always had this pain. I just need you to be my friend now. That’s all you can do. That’s everything you should do. And I thank you for it.
Writers are forgetful,
but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.
Writers are forgetful
the important things.
I felt hurt by what you said, and I just jumped to conclusions. I just…I wanna be someone who can keep you from feeling that pain, you know? And when you do feel it and I can’t do anything about it, then that’s when I feel helpless. I just want to be there for you, to make you happy, to get you through those bad memories. And I wanna be good enough. I want to be better than any man you’ve ever known. But, anyway…I’m sorry about today. Tomorrow’s a new day. And it’ll be a day that I make you happy.