I love the way you find me in your sleep.
I love the way you open your eyes in the morning and call me beautiful.
And when I catch you looking at me across the bar, you wink and I forget to breathe.
I love when you smack my butt as I’m walking by.
And then you kiss me as if you’ll never see me again.
I love that you want me to put myself, my school, my passions first.
I love that after a long day you still call and want me to come over.
And we don’t have sex that much, and you don’t buy me much, but your arms always remind me of your warmth.
I love all that and the kindness of your eyes.
I’ve never once worried that you’d waiver in your affections for me.
I’ve never once questioned your dedication to me.
I’ve never once cared to even consider that you would ever doubt us, doubt me.
And here we are and I am scared.
It’s all changed and I can’t stop it.
I can’t fix it.
Everything is crumbling and falling apart.
Maybe it was my fault.
For riding all my hopes into you.
You would think I would’ve learned this time.
But you no longer find me in your sleep.
Your kisses no longer feel like you’ll never see me again.
You no longer tell me I’m beautiful.
Or smack my butt.
You don’t invite me to spend time with you and your friends.
You don’t ask about my day.
It’s like you’re not even here.
You made me promise that if anything changed I would tell you.
You made me promise that if you started acting different to tell you.
You made me promise that if things ever got hard not to walk away because you want this to work.
But things got tough.
And I feel you walking away.
You said I hadn’t seen anything yet.
But I can’t remember the last time you took me to dinner.
Or the last time you were proud to bring me somewhere and introduce me as your girlfriend.
So now that things are different and I say something…
I’m acting crazy.
I’m the one at fault.
I had someone make me feel this way before and I promised myself I would never let it happen again.
And here we are my darling,
I’ve done it again.
You don’t miss me anymore.
You don’t want to see me anymore.
I feel unwanted here.
I feel alone.
And you’re laying right next to me.
You promised me.
I love the way you find me in your sleep.
I woke up curled into his arms. A tangled mess of my long hair and our limbs. I turned towards him and the sun kissed his lashes, gently caressing his arm, his breaths were deep and slow. In that moment of quiet, I watched him, and in his grasp I felt calm. I shut my eyes again to join him in sleep but I woke to his lips pressed against mine, pleading me to awaken. As I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me. It was just like him to say so little, well to say nothing at all. In his simpleness I find comfort and in his sweet seduction and addiction to me, I feel at peace. It’s a wonderful thing to not know where it will go. I just know that in this moment, at this place, I am his and he is mine. And that simple thought is enough.
I just want to be told I am beautiful.
I want to hear that your heart still skips a beat when you see me.
I want to know that you love me.
That you will love me.
Until the end of time.
I just want to know that I am important.
That my life has meaning.
I want to know that my words have meaning.
That my art matters.
That my feelings matter.
I just want to know what it is like to feel special.
I want to feel beautiful.
Not that my hips are too fat. My boobs to large. My thighs too big. My hair too curly. My eyes hidden behind my glasses. My bushy eyebrows. My chipped nail polish. My bitten to the bone finger nails.
I don’t want to hear how I am crazy. A butt. Annoying. A pain. A nerd. A loser. A geek.
I hear that everyday.
I hear them snicker at me. At my height. At my glasses. At my car. At my hair. At my ripped shoes.
I hear it everyday.
You are fat. I hate your hair color. Your feet are too big. Your arms are getting flabby.
I hear it from myself.
I hear it from them.
You are a disappointment. A failure. Miserable. You are not happy. You need to eat better.
Why can’t I hear different?
Why won’t anyone tell me so…
I just want to know that I can be beautiful.
That I am beautiful.
I did some terrible things. But only because he did some terrible things. I regret those terrible things. Cause what if he never really did those terrible things. But I actually did those terrible things. I heard from someone that he had done some terrible things. I always hear from someone that he has done something, then he comes up with a reasonable excuse or explanation over the misunderstood supposed terrible things. After so many times, I am sick of it. Especially since I cannot get him to tell me I am beautiful, yet he finds it easy to let another girl know it… Just to boost her self-esteem… Yet he cannot boost mine. He seems to be lying and know he won’t even fight to explain it all. He won’t even fight. I feel like I am living in a nightmare and my heart yearns for him. Aches for him still. He is all I have known these past 2 years, All I have wanted. Now my heart is torn. I want him, but I know we aren’t forever. He says he will never marry me. It hurts. My heart hurts at his words. We’ve both done terrible things. I just want him to let me go. To be so upset with me that he will never speak to me again, just so that I can move on. Because I can’t be friends with the boy I spent the last years sleeping with, holding, calling him baby, not without it being like ripping the stitches holding the gaping wound he caused in my heart, and then stitching them again. I cannot explain my feelings. I feel so numb. So empty. So broken and unfixable. I don’t know what to do. I just know… I’ve done some terrible things.