10.29.2005

WORD :: About A Boy.


Normally I wouldn't put myself out there like this, but it's almost three and the only person I can talk to at this time of the night is myself. I started crying about half an hour ago and I just cant seem to stop. My head hurts, I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep, but I can't. I'm so angry and confused right now; angry at myself for being so stupid and careless, and confused about how this thing between he and I went from so right to so wrong and why I could do nothing to prevent our relationship from spiraling out of control.

Its not like I loved him. Really, I didn't even know him. Aside from the uncanny number of things we had in common, he was just another boy to me. Someone to focus my attention on, someone to daydream about, someone to adore me and all my flaws and perfection.

Maybe I cared about him more than I know because it takes more than just some boy to make me cry. I tried not to, fought hard, but couldn't hold it in. He said all the right things, touched me in just the right way, confided in me, kissed my forehead, dressed like a pro, and best of all, like me, was the perfect mix of hip hop and hippie. 

He got me. I wanted him to be the one to call...and he did. But, then the calls stopped. He disappeared and I blindly chased after him. I don't know why; he enthralled me. He had so much potential and I wanted to show him that. He was so young and I wanted to help him grow up. What can I say, I'm a hopeless, hopeless romantic with the heart of a saint. 

After ending a two and half year relationship, it's hard to deal with the loneliness that comes along with separating yourself from someone who you shared all of yourself and your life with. For a long time I thought I was fine, that everything would be ok, that I would find someone else to fill the void. But now, I realize this will be much harder than I had originally thought. 

I never kiss without undying passion. People say having sex is the most intimate way you can be with a person, but for me its kissing. This is a recipe for disaster. When I kiss someone, I feel like I give them a part of myself. The challenge that arises from this, is that I somehow have to find a way to regain the part of me that was lost when they are finally gone. As Nine Inch Nails sings, "There is no you. There is only me." 

See it worked. I stopped crying. Writing brings me great happiness.

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