i miss him. sugar and salt.

I mean he’s still “here.”

I see him here and there. And I started talking to him again but not like I used to… I can’t talk to him like I used to because I know he only says lies.

So it would be a little weird to miss him if he’s “here” and he’s not like in some other country or leaving my messages on read in the summer (was that shade? Nope, it was the honest truth) right?

Wrong.

I miss him.

By this, I mean the him I fell for.

Not the him I know now.

Just a few months ago, he was different. It’s honestly like I’m talking to a different person… That’s what it feels like.

I know that there can be a lot of sides to a person, but him?

It was hard to know who I was talking to on a day. A jerk or the one I fell for.

Who’s the “him” I fell for?

The one who cared about my day and asked how I was doing. The one who would text me as soon as he woke up, I knew because the time stamp said 5am or 7am and would tell me “Good morning” or “Good afternoon.” The one who could tell something was wrong with me just because of a couple of words and actually cared enough to know what was wrong. It never felt forced.  The one who used to want to know about my secrets and my past. The one who wanted me to be happy and have a good day and if I didn’t, he would want to know what went wrong. The one who asked me about my anxiety and looked at me in a way nobody ever did.

The one that whenever something happened, he used to be one of the people or the only person I wanted to tell because I felt safe telling him and I knew he wouldn’t judge me.

Now all that’s left of him?

A jerk with a big ego always making jokes wanting to outmatch me.

He was always “outmatching” me before. I mean if he was sweet all the time? That would be too much sugar. The outmatching was balanced with the sweetness.

But over time, the sweetness went away and all that was left was salt. And if salt could be expired (in an alternate universe)… he would be like expired salt.

He doesn’t do any of the sweet stuff mentioned above anymore. All he does is “play games” coming for my shortness in jokes wanting me to come back at him with a joke. I don’t really mind this, but the fact that this is what’s left of us? It’s sad. It’s like his sweetness was a guest who didn’t want to stay for too long.

And when he does “care” it just seems so forced considering all the other crap he’s put my heart and me through. If you read the messages, it would be evident he doesn’t care or he doesn’t care like he used to.

i miss him.

i miss the him who did all the sweet things above.

i miss the one i fell for.

i wish to see him again someday.

but he might never show up again.

because he’s being taken over by another.

what changed? i don’t know.

why doesn’t he care anymore? i don’t know.

i don’t know what happened to him.

but can he tell that him that i miss him?

will that make him come back?

or is this who he really is?

who was “he” then?

did that “him” ever exist?

was he fake?

i don’t know.

all i know is that i miss him.

Whoever he was.

And as long as that him is gone,

I’m currently not falling for anyone.

banner-1176676_960_720

Advertisements

poems, poems, poems #3

Poems I put up on my Tumblr:

  • Topic: Phoenix

i did all I could to make you stay.

i cared.

i was vulnerable.

i opened up.

but i guess it wasn’t enough for you.

 

your actions never came from the heart…

instead, they came from your ego

-realizations.

 

i can’t say your name anymore.

you’ve become the “he who should not be named”

and i finally get why the mere mention of a name means so much.

it’s because it’s more than just a name.

it’s the whole fucking memory of you.

all the times i said it while i vented to one of my friends.

smiling because of the way it rolled off my tongue as i recollected a story that used to make me happy.

when i yelled it out because you were being “annoying”

using it as a foundation for a nickname.

your name has become more than just a name.

it’s a trigger.

those seven letters…

they give me hell.

 

i want to hope. i want to believe. that you think of me as much as i think of you.

that here and there you think about picking up the phone to talk to me.

that you think of moments we shared to make you smile.

that you miss me and you actually care.

that you’re not forgetting me.

that you’re not losing your focus on us.

Even though I know,

it’s all a lie.

 

confession.

i still have that picture of you on my phone.

when you were smiling and we were together, content with the world.

i can never look at that picture…

but i can never delete it either.

 

that “I miss you” text is never gonna come, is it?

because if it did…

it would be a lie.

 

“why wasn’t i enough for you?”

-my heart.

 

and after all this time i still delude myself into thinking you feel the same way about me.

-toxic.

 

no, it’s not the thought that counts, it’s the action.

because in that case, you’re just saying shit with no intention of following through.

 

it’s not easy for me to act like nothing happened.

that’s what makes you different from me.

 

you gave up and i gave in.

banner-1176676_960_720

how Life works

Sometimes i feel everything,

other times i feel nothing at all.

Sometimes i forget,

other times all i can do is remember.

Sometimes i feel loved,

other times i only get pain.

Sometimes i am strong,

other times i am brought down because of the worst in me.

Sometimes i can breathe,

other times i suffocate.

Sometimes i bleed,

other times i bandage.

Sometimes it’s Hello,

other times it’s goodbye.

Sometimes things work out,

other times they don’t.

Sometimes they treat me equally,

other times they treat me like a piece of trash.

Sometimes i celebrate,

other times i break.

Sometimes i listen to thousands of songs,

other times i listen to that one song on repeat.

Sometimes i act real,

other times i pretend.

Sometimes i have walls,

other times i break them down.

Sometimes the world is at peace,

other times… help.

Sometimes they pick up the phone.

other times they don’t.

Sometimes i believe,

other times i read the lies.

Sometimes i look up to the sky,

other times i look into my hole.

Sometimes it’s better,

other times it’s worse.

Sometimes it’s hard,

other times… it’s even more difficult.

banner-1176676_960_720

maybe.

maybe i’m shallow.

maybe i’m overdramatic.

maybe i’m selfish.

maybe i’m waiting for someone to take time away from their life to notice that i’m not okay.

maybe i’m waiting for that little piece of hope.

maybe i don’t want a mask of a smile anymore.

maybe i’m ready to admit that i’m not okay.

maybe i’m trying so hard to hold on.

maybe it’s hard every day.

maybe seeing other’s happiness is hard for me.

maybe i’m trying so hard to not listen to the voices in my head.

maybe i’m so confused about where my life is headed.

maybe i’m putting too much hope on future promises.

maybe i’m putting too much trust in people.

maybe i’ve been broken too much.

maybe it’s a sign that i should give up.

maybe this is just a phase.

maybe no one wants to ask.

maybe no one knows how to.

maybe people are focused on their own lives.

maybe i’m being self-conceited.

maybe i care too much about people.

maybe i care too much about what people think.

maybe trying isn’t working anymore.

maybe there’s too much on my plate for me to handle.

maybe i need help.

maybe i’m scared.

maybe i want to fix myself but i don’t know where to start.

maybe i’m waiting for someone, anyone, just to ask me

“Are you okay?”

banner-1176676_960_720

wounds

wounds.

wounds that had been sewn together.

wounds that forgot the pain.

wounds that had been “healed.”

have been cut again.

the stitches cut through.

deeper cuts.

deeper than the surface of skin.

deeper than paper cuts.

and the color?

red.

deep dark blood oozing red.

a red that would make a person faint.

a red that could mirror someone’s anger.

and isn’t that what you feel?

anger?

anger for opening up your wounds?

anger towards the person…

because they had the weapon hid behind their back this whole time.

stitches in one hand,

the knife in the other.

they put you back together only to give you pain.

to make the blood ooze.

and the knife is no longer in their hand.

but in your heart instead.

and how do you heal that wound?

again?

banner-1176676_960_720

all it takes is a day for things to happen. pt. 2

pt. 1

There was never supposed to be a part two, you see.

But things happened and days passed by where I couldn’t fight my mind, couldn’t disregard my heart, couldn’t live without knowing how he felt…

But the second time around, we still ended up here again. It all came around full circle.

I still don’t know how he feels. He still causes me pain.

And I still want to fix this.

all it takes is a day for things to happen.

It starts over again on a Sunday.

Because I needed to know your side of the story.

My over-analyzation and overthinking ruined me on a Sunday.

So I built up the courage to start talking to you again telling you, “I don’t want to bother you but can we talk?”

You reply to me that same day, on a Sunday.

And of course, you’re that person saying “Why would you? Sure we can.”

I told you that I was mad at you on a Sunday.

You had no idea that anything was wrong… or at least that’s what you said.

You told me that if someone stays quiet with you then you lose focus on a Monday.

You definitely know how to make a girl special… what does losing focus even mean?

I stupidly told you my feelings saying I missed you, I thought I was bothering you, and I thought you didn’t care on a Monday.

The idiot I am, I thought you would actually tell me what I wanted to hear.

But all you said to that was “Aw” on a Tuesday.

This is the day you said hi to me and my friend and I pretended I didn’t see you.

We talked for the first time face to face after all the previous “chapstick/not talking to each other shit” on a Thursday.

It was extremely awkward because I can see what I did to you… I forced you to care.

I told my friend that I was just going to “go with the flow” concerning you on a Thursday.

Because I honestly don’t know where this is headed… I still don’t know.

I saw you three times on a Friday.

I fooled myself through my happiness thinking I could only see you as a “Friend.”

You talked about me not being able to say hi back to you because, well you assume it’s because I’m shy on a Saturday.

When really it’s because you’re always with her, your ex-girlfriend, your “best friend.”

You told me you deleted snapchat because of drama on a Monday.

You asked me if there was another way for us to communicate so we exchange numbers… the awkwardness seeming to fade away.

I found out you had feelings for some girl on a Monday.

And I wrote a song about the pain because I knew it wasn’t me; you brought me up then brought me crashing down all in the same day.

You told me you wanted to hang out with me anytime soon on a Tuesday.

You asked me if I was free the next day and I was filled with fear because of this damn rollercoaster: one second I’m up and the next, I’m down.

We hung out on a Wednesday.

You took me to a huge library and we just talked… about our pasts, our fears, our futures.

I put my head on your knee and your shoulder on a Wednesday.

And it felt like the world couldn’t get to us and whatever we were didn’t matter because in that moment it was just us.

My parents got mad at me on a Wednesday.

Because we talked so long we lost track of time and I got home after dark.

You apologized for making me late on a Thursday.

I told you it was okay because the time together was worth it and you agreed.

I saw you on a Tuesday.

And I had to create distance between us while we briefly talked because I felt that I was too caught up in the moment during our hang out being physically close to you and I get carried away sometimes.

You didn’t reply to my messages until two days later on a Thursday.

You told me your phone is messed up and you didn’t get my messages until two days later— this situation definitely isn’t good for a girl with anxiety.

I asked you how your week was on a Friday.

You told me it was awesome, fun, weird, cool, etc (so many other adjectives) but you also said it was sad because you didn’t see me all week… I didn’t ask for that.

You tell me to do good on the SAT, you say “My Angelc legs” for the first time, and you also say that we should hang out at the library afterward on a Saturday.

But you didn’t send me any follow-up texts after I took the test so I had to ask you what the plan was.

I called you on a Saturday.

And you told me you became busy all of a sudden… and my heart broke while realizing that I’m an idiot.

You told me you would text me later that night on a Saturday.

And that was the first of your many lies that my heart would later disregard.

You tell my friend that you think I’m mad at you on a Monday.

And I agreed because I was.

You asked my friend if we could talk alone for a second on a Monday.

I still don’t know why you wanted to talk alone, you just told me to keep a lookout on my phone because you were free to text me.

You text me four minutes to midnight saying “Since it’s still today…” on a Monday.

It is four minutes until that day ended you piece of crap, and yeah I actually called you that.

I tell you we’re not on the same page and that I’m pages ahead of you on a Tuesday.

You told me you’re chapters ahead and you don’t like when I say “the end.”

You took everything as a joke on a Wednesday.

You told me that you couldn’t wait to shut my attitude down. I told you it’s not attitude, it’s hurt feelings and you told me to “Toughen up Angelic Legs.”

I saw you after we had a back and forth over texts on a Thursday.

And you wanted to annoy me with an insult and I told you I was too tired to deal with you and you smirked and said “Uh-huh.”

You stopped me on the stairwell on a Friday.

And even though I would make you late for class you wanted to keep talking to me… the way you looked at me and stopped me from leaving and your smile urgh.

I made a list of why you only think of me as a friend on a Sunday.

And life was like “Yeah right.”

You told me that you want to hang out again and to tell you my free days on a Monday.

I was mad at you but once I read that text I suddenly wasn’t anymore.

I told you that I’m free any day except Tuesday and Wednesday on a Monday.

And you asked me if we should do Thursday… (these days are the confusing, frustrating ones, so hold on).

I told you I was actually free today but it’s too late now because you might be busy on a Tuesday.

You were busy and the fact that I reply to your texts seemingly seconds afterward whilst you reply hours/a day later makes me wanna hide in a corner.

You told me we might be able to hang out next week Monday on a Wednesday.

And I thought, “Wait, are we still hanging out on Thursday?” (Is it frustrating yet?)

I saw you running late to your class on a Wednesday.

And you told me we might be able to hang out tomorrow and you would text me soon… I actually believed you would give me details soon for a second.

At the last period, in the second to last hour of school, while I’m filled with anxiety wondering if we’re meeting today, you tell me that you’re busy and we should hang out next week Monday on a Thursday.

And you made my last week of school a h.e.a.d.a.c.h.e. If you weren’t even free any day that week, why did you ask?

You reinstall Snapchat on a Friday.

And I get anxiety all over again because your eyes are there again and I would feel the need to post on my story just for you to see it… that feeling I hate.

You start a new conversation with me on snapchat on a Sunday.

You commented on a picture of my best friend and I. Also, me freaking out over growing up… we were getting back to a conversation after a week of frustrating texts of “This day? No, this day.”

“Next week Monday” comes, the day we’re supposed to hang out and I wait anxiously and aggravatingly on a Monday.

But I hear nothing from you… I ruined myself waiting for something, anything and this is a reason why Mondays are now my least favorite days.

I send you a text through messaging, not snapchat, asking you what happened on a Tuesday.

To this day, you still have not responded to that text… wow, that feeling of wanting to hide in a corner is definitely not foreign when it comes to you.

You text me on snapchat on a Wednesday.

And I remember I had one of the worst headaches that night.

I got my driver’s license posting on my snapchat story “I WANT TO SCREAM BUT I MIGHT SCARE THESE PEOPLE” on a Wednesday.

And all you say is “You can scream if you want to.” Disregarding my text, the texts I sent you Sunday, and my feelings… but it’s not the first time with the last one.

My friends tell me to just send you a rude message and go to sleep on a Wednesday.

They kept me sane and from losing my cool with you.

You send me on a message on a Thursday.

I didn’t want to deal with your bullshit… so I waited a day to open it— so you’ll know what it’s like.

I opened your message on a Friday.

You told me, “We need a new day to hang out, right? Tell me your free days.” So, we’re gonna do this again? I’m tired. 

I don’t tell you my free days on a Friday.

Instead, I want to tell you “Are you just going to blow me off like this week?” And my friend persuades me to actually tell you that so you can feel the burn.

You tell me that you wanted to hang out outside and it was raining that day so you canceled the hangout but you forgot to notify me on a Friday.

And I thought “Is this really your excuse?” Because, honestly, what kind of bullshit? How do you forget to tell me, did you think telepathy would work? And why did you only give me an explanation when I confronted you about it?

I openly call you a jerk on a Friday.

And you make it into a joke.

You replied to my sass with “Damn” because I was still mad at you on a Saturday.

I asked you if it hurt, and if it did then good.

You told me that’s why you won’t give up on me on a Sunday.

I don’t understand why you said that… it didn’t fit what we were talking about. Why? Was that a lie too?

I took a picture of my permit besides my license because I was smiling in my license but mad in my permit. I put it on my snapchat story blocking out my address and other personal stuff on a Monday.

But I guess I didn’t block it out that good because you send me a message saying “So you live on _______ Avenue?” And I questioned how you were able to tell what my address was byecause of a blurry picture and a few unblocked letters at the end.

You told me you were going to show up at my window one day sneaking into my house on a Monday.

I teased you saying you don’t know my house number… there we go, we’re back to us.

You told me we should hang out tomorrow on a Monday.

And we did.

We hung out on a Tuesday.

We went to a park this time.

We talked about life and little things on a Tuesday.

We looked at the clouds and my heart could’ve manipulated this into thinking it’s something more… and it did.

You circled your arm around my waist and also put it around my shoulders on a Tuesday.

But we’re only friends, right?

You told me that if you saw me on a date while you were downtown you would be like “Oooo I see you” on a Tuesday.

And your reaction was that of a genuine friend, where did someone dating me even come from? We weren’t talking about that.

We had to go separate ways because we were going on different buses on a Tuesday.

I walked away from you and I hoped that you looked at me, and after a few seconds I looked back and you were crossing the street. That’s the last time I would see you when our relationship would still be “okay.”

You left for Seattle on a Saturday.

I messaged you saying I can finally breathe again and joked around with you; telling you “Have fun and you know you don’t have to come back.”

Instead of a usual insult back you just reply with a simple “Sure thing” on a Sunday.

I tell you that it’s a joke and asked you if you were okay.

You return to your usual self and something feels off but I don’t question it on a Sunday.

You say that it’s nice to see my soft side under the insults and if you’re feeling down you’d tell me and I should do the same… even though I didn’t believe that last part. Remember the chapstick thing?

You return to your “Good Morning’s” and you message me fire emojis concerning my new haircut on a Tuesday.

We’re finally at that level of normalcy, it seems. Seattle “You” is nice, he replies in the same day and everything.

It’s Independence Day in America and you tell me to “Stay Safe” twice that day on a Tuesday.

How can I stay safe when you’re literally killing me?

You told me you wanted to read or listen to my songs on a Friday.

I started freaking out… I was so happy that you wanted to hear one.

You said that your friend opened the snapchat conversation and closed it without saving the paragraph messages on a Friday.

This is the message with my excitement for you to hear one of my songs. This definitely feels like the excuse side of you.

I reply to you like I did the last time and for the first time that week, you don’t reply at all in a day on a Saturday.

Something is wrong but I don’t think twice about it, it’s only been a day— you’ve left me hanging for longer in the past.

It’s your birthday on a Sunday.

You still haven’t responded to my messages but I remembered your birthday and wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

You respond to my happy birthday message in a few hours on a Sunday.

You’re coming back home from Seattle this day and you tell me you’ll respond to my other messages later when you get service in the airport… *sarcasm on* when have you ever lied about that before?

You leave me on read on a Sunday.

I think nothing about it because for the hundredth time I again believe you when you say a lie because why would you deceive me? You know I have anxiety.

You comment on the senior pictures I posted on my story on a Wednesday.

At this point, I’m truly pissed off at you and I don’t hide my sass because literally the message of you lying, saying that you would reply to my messages later is right above “the senior pictures” message. You knew that you would be blatantly lying to me, you never were planning to respond to that message, were you? Home “You” is back to being a jerk.

We have a back and forth conversation of insults on a Thursday.

I’m tired and I figure if we’re just insulting each other it won’t hurt me as much if any second now you would leave me on read.

You annoy me to a point where I tell you about this song: Reflection, that tells you about how I feel about you (not realistically) on a Friday.

You say that it’s adorable (… really adorable?) that I feel this way and I questioned whether you actually understood the song.

You said that you know me well enough to know if I’m lying or not on a Saturday.

That pissed me off because you’re so cocky that you think you know so much about me when you haven’t even scratched the surface. I know if I said that exact same thing to you, you would mock me.

I tell you, “You think you know me that well? That’s cute” on a Saturday.

And you leave me on read amongst other messages I sent you but I know I didn’t hurt you… your ego is too big to be hurt.

I hear a song on Monday.

It gave me hope after you left me on read because you’ve said before that you don’t like when I say “End of the story.”

You send me a message 13 days later responding to my story on a Saturday.

And honestly, your message wasn’t worth any wait.

Somehow we’re having a conversation on a Monday.

But it’s not a real one… it’s just the back and forth again. But talking to you is better than not talking to you and having anxiety.

You come for my shortness on a Monday.

You say being short is an advantage (which I already knew lol) and that I could use it in my favor if my crush likes short girls… which is ironic because you’re just talking about yourself.

I respond to you for the last time unbeknownst to me that things would change on a Friday.

Ironically we were talking about you not being able to handle it if I stopped talking to you and how I had a trap on you over our friendship and you couldn’t get out.

On your story you put, “I only wish I kissed you in the rain” on a Friday.

My dumb ass actually thinks it’s me. Because it either rained/drizzled whenever we hung out.

My friend asks you who it’s about on a Friday.

You respond with, “My girlfriend lol” and everything seems like a game now… it all feels like a lie.

Talking to my friends saves me on a late Friday night/early Saturday morning.

Because if they weren’t there I would’ve thrown up my dinner.

You respond to my Friday texts on a Sunday.

But you send them late in the night so I can wait to respond to them the next day.

I open your messages on a Monday.

And this is a time of firsts. I leave you on read for once. I think of myself for once. I want to protect my heart for once.


It’s been 14 days since we stopped talking. I don’t know if it’s phasing you or not. I don’t even know if you’ve noticed. You lost focus… but now that you have a her I don’t know what to think or hope for anymore.

I actually thought I was special to you. I thought our whole story, this back and forth, everything.. it would all be worth it in the end. But it’s not. You played me. You played with my heart. I don’t care what anyone says, maybe that’s just how you are with friends… If that’s the case I’m not sure if I can be your friend.

Maybe there’s a reason this happened a second time… maybe I wasn’t supposed to start over again. Because here I am at square one all over again. But this time. I know, for sure, it’s not my fault.

There’s nothing more I want to do than talk to you… but why? To tell you the truth? You would probably respond with awww and we’ll be at that awkward stage again. Just so I can be your friend? I can’t. To see if you care about me? I can’t take any more jumps or chances for you to try to know what you’re feeling… I’ll never know. And I already know, you are half-hearted when it comes to me and you barely care. All those times you left me on read, left me hanging on a Monday, hurt my feelings… it never phased you because you didn’t care.

It wouldn’t matter if you knew you hurt me. If it did… if it does, where are you now?

Nobody is probably going to read this whole thing. I wouldn’t even want to if I wasn’t part of it. Because it’s so crazy, the ups and downs, it would make anyone want to rip their hair out… I don’t know how I haven’t done that yet.

It’s tiring. 

One day, you asked me what was wrong, in person, and I told you that I was tired. You asked me how long I slept that night. I told you I’m not physically tired but mentally tired. And amongst the other reasons (school, fake friends, anxiety, etc.) one of the reasons I was tired was because of my feelings for you.

And for these past few weeks it was like I pretended that everything you’ve done wasn’t real, my mind wasn’t able to comprehend everything so I just didn’t accept it… that’s the only way I could accept it, ironically. But typing all of this up and realizing how real it is…

One of my friends told me that she lied to me saying she stopped talking to her crush and it made her feel better. She told me this lie so that I would stop talking to you and she said she was sorry but she had to say it because “he was hurting you way more than my own crush (who’s a real douchebag) was hurting me.

And I realized. You were hurting me a lot. But I kept letting you hurt me. For the sake and hope of my heart. And in the end… it didn’t even work out. It wasn’t worth it. You were falling for a girl whilst I was falling for you deeper.

During those both hangouts. With my head on your shoulder. With your hand around my waist. While you brushed my hair behind my ear. 

You were playing with me.

And I can’t forgive you for that.

I can’t.

I’m writing this about you on a Monday.

And no matter how much I want to talk to you or want to hope for a message from you, I know it won’t be good for me.

banner-1176676_960_720

the Truth.

If you’re asking me to admit the truth;

Yes, your smile literally glued some of the broken pieces of my heart together and brought sun to the dark places of my heart.

Yes, your laugh was like my favorite song on repeat and if i was the one to make you do that? i wish i could do that for a long time.

Yes, i would’ve rested my head on your shoulder for a lifetime if it meant i got to be this close to you in the safety of your presence.

Yes, i would’ve spent so much time with you because it meant i got to see your face and talk to you for countless hours.

Yes, i would’ve let you go on and on about soccer because i know it’s your one true love and the way you talk about your one true passion leaves me in awe.

Yes, your actions always had me overthinking and were on a constant loop in my head.

Yes, your smell was one that welcomed all my senses that if someone were to spray the cologne you wear all i would think about would be you and how close we were to each other.

Yes, your sense of humor made me feel special that i hoped you never talked about “vampires and werewolves” (amongst other things) to anyone else as goofily as you talked about them to me.

Yes, you noticing me has to be one of the best feelings on the planet and i just wish i knew what you thought once you would see me.

Yes, i would’ve talked to you for hours because talking to you was unlike talking to someone else. i never found myself getting tired of your stories.

Yes, the way you held me had my heart beating in a way it’s never beat before… it scared me how you made it feel. i wonder at such a close proximity if you could hear it too?

Yes, your touch affected me in a way it was if my heart stopped and what was always seen as impossible became possible for a second.

Yes, our hang outs made me believe in a content future where just being in the moment with you would feel like enough for me.

Yes, i wanted to stay on the phone with you for countless hours either lending your ear for a story or listening to you talk for hours about your day.

Yes, i would’ve looked at you for days on end waiting for you to look back and flash your perfect smile.

Yes, i would’ve kept a constant eye connection with you but the way you looked at me… it was too much and it scared me so i had to turn away after a while.

Yes, whenever i saw you face to face and talked to you in person at school i would always come home with butterflies in my stomach and a non-erasable smile on my face.

Yes, your words left marks on my heart and every sweet and funny thing you’ve said to me— i can always think about it and it never ceases to make me smile. Even if i was mad at you.

Yes, whenever you would say something only read about in books my heart swelled and i got a little bit of hope that you felt the same way.

Yes, i used to daydream about you and us being happy together like any other sappy high school couple.

Yes, the thought of “us” (if an us ever existed) scared me but if you ever felt the same way about me? …i wouldn’t know what to do.

But this is probably the way you make her feel too.

and i was nothing to you.

so i fade away. with these memories as chains.

banner-1176676_960_720