*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1253681-Why-
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Other · Emotional · #1253681
bit rambling, but i am tired of trying to fix it.
Why


Why, do I have to love you? I can't say I really like you, a lot.
In fact most days you infuriate me, to within an inch of my own sanity.
Some days you make me cry tears of confusion, and fear of never ending circles and history rerunning. some days you make me want to hit you and not stop, and other days, damn those weakened days, all I want to do is hold you, and more so, to be held by you.

With you, I never really know, if I’m even real, or whether I too, am another exaggeration, a mere fairy tale in your riveting fictions, a collection I know all too well. At times I nearly forget who I am and what my purpose is. You make me feel so stupid. You know so much . . . but do you? You don't know me. You often say, ‘I know you to well,’ but you don’t .You know what you want to know, what is free of care and baggage, and what I allow you to know, what is safe to know, because not everything is classified so.

You amaze me, I’ve never met anybody quite like you, it’s probably a good thing, but I understand you, deep down I think you know that, it would explain the sudden change, I think you want to be a mystery. A deep lost soul, whom can never be retrieved. Believe me sweetheart you don’t have to try to be deep, because many a ship could drown in your thoughts, neither do you have to try and be lost, because I’ve never come across such a confused ‘messed up’ child in all my life.
You pull unreasonable and witless stunts; one heap of frivolous behaviour follows another, constant as a ticking clock. Every now and then I get a glitter of warmth, subconsciously of course, which is then covered by suggestive, crude or purposely provocative action.

Some days you confuse me, because every time I think I know all your games, you release a new rule, defining your logic only with anger , I don't think there is any logic, do you do these senseless because you want to, or just because you can?

You know, I have cursed you, hated you, called you for Satan and more, but never could I wish upon you, a single day of ill being, a single cloud above your head, or a single tear to grace your eye. What a fool I must be, I am, foolish, for most people I am not like this, I would never talk in riddles, and get in a muddle and feel worthless for anyone, anyone but you. Anyonebut you, who takes me from hatred to love; in less than five seconds.

I tell myself, everyday, not today, today I will be stronger, and today I will not be a silly little girl, wanting something, that can never be mine.
Today I will find some dignity, and stop throwing my heart at someone who would just as quickly throw it away, like it was some sort of contaminated meat. I tell myself again and again that today, you won’t rule me, but you always do, one word from you can set my day, a smile, can cheer me, and make me feel I can do almost anything, a dig, a knock back or a sarcasm cloaked remark, could drop me back to square one. It’s not right, for one person to have that power. The powers, when you touch me, or put your arm around me, talk to me, or even look at me. Surely I should decide, not you, get out of my head.

[Some times I think I should just leave, get out of here, fresh start and never see you again , if I don’t see you then I wont think of you so much, and maybe it won’t hurt so much anymore, maybe the pain will go away. Perhaps after time you will start to fade, the young quirky boy with the adorable lopsided smile will slowly materialise into a fond and distant memory and I can forget how worthless you made me feel. But if I forget that, will I also forget how good you made me feel, will I forget all the times you made me smile, all the times you made me laugh so much, that I forgot to breath, will I forget every word you ever said to me, and the jokes we shared, and the times we talked right through the night, the tears I cried for you, and how much you meant to me. Because you will never know how much you meant to me, there were times when I thought you were the only thing that mattered, and that no one could feel for you what I did. The significance of you, like no other I had felt for. ]

You can never know then intensity, it felt like, nothing I have ever felt before, like no one before or after me could ever feel quite the same. But, it didn’t feel like butterflies, and roses, and pretty pink paper hearts; it didn’t feel happy at all, for I wanted something I knew I couldn’t have, every time I caught myself looking at you, I realised how much I was torturing myself, but I couldn’t stop it, you were like an addiction, being so close to you, but you not knowing, and me, not showing, it was tough, but a façade I soon perfected.


I wanted the impossible , I wanted real passion, I wanted the fire of a thousand suns, I wanted you to melt in my arms, as I do in your eyes, I wanted to escape with you, to a place like no other, I wanted the impossible.
I wanted you to Love me,like i knew you never could.

The little things about you, that used to make me laugh, i know now they are an attachment, like an accessory, it’s not you, it’s not natural, it’s an adaptation, and now i wish you wouldn't

Maybe what I felt for you, it wasn’t Love, maybe it was obsession, infatuation, worse; lust. Maybe I lusted after you, and instead of real care and affection, my feelings, where selfish and sinful. I think I have paid for my sins, you made me feel like I was completely useless at times, I don’t feel guilt , nor remorse, my sin has been accounted for, and repaid in punishment in so many ways, we could count the tears on my pillow, the letters I have written to you, the arguments we have had, the shouting I have done, the breaking of ,my strong heart, the last of which the worse, you broke it, finally there has come a time, when a joke and a laugh can’t fix it, I told you there would.


© Copyright 2007 Dramaqueen (minidramaqueen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1253681-Why-