Create it

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people have always made me feel alone. but i’d never felt lonely alone, until i met you. with you, i’m home.

— I.C.

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break a writer’s heart.

you will be immortalized.

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when the few men you considered bad habits become the few that buried into who you pretend you are and they got you for real.

it’s no wonder you still think of them.

and the real you they got to see.

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to live in society that applauds your light with connectedness and approval but dismisses your dark, how can anyone truly be who they are?

i bring out all my light to share and to help me grow and i bury and hide my dark. i tell it to go away and that it cannot help me here. i fight off thoughts of apathy and cruelty because they are not who i want to be.

i often wonder if i am that inner darkness and if by shunning it, i am being inauthentic. i dont even know how to go about freeing it without destroying all my light.

it’s heavy not knowing if others feel the same way or if others even have that darkness. am i the only one with this beast clawing to get out?

or is this the age old tale of us all actively choosing good because it is beneficial to humanity. like in star wars, we all carry the potential to give into the dark side but it is undeniable destruction and pain.

then why have it at all? why do i have this side of me? and why do we bother saying to be who you are if an entire half of you is not allowed to exist?

total light feels good just as complete dark would but living with both you never feel completely who you are.

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If I stop expecting to fall asleep next you, it won’t hurt me when we don’t.

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One of the scariest things I’ve ever done is love someone I thought loved me.

His were the only eyes I could stay in, swimming.

I created this love and carried it like he loved me and I loved him.

That’s when I stopped trusting my heart.

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Every full moon, I dream of you.

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i was numb

when we met.

and when he hurt me

and i felt it,

i felt it.

to feel,

to feel anything at all,

finally.

i begged for more.

do it again,

but new-

make me cry.

he obeyed,

everytime.

my broken heart,

was alive.

|— I.C.

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Milk

‪If I have milk and it’s not spoiled, I don’t go looking for or wind up buying new milk... because I have it already.

The milk has to go sour first. ‬

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Broken

I always went for the broken guy. Maybe if he’s more broken than I am then no one will notice that I am too. And maybe he won’t notice it.

My friends were always the crazy girls. Maybe if she’s crazier than I am then no one will see that I am too. 

But I’ve healed.

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Our eyes met in this breath between two words and he smiled.

In the middle of our conversation we were having a far better one.

His words kept flowing and my mouth would answer but our eyes —it was like I was seeing him for the first time —our souls whispered hello while we talked the regular talk.

In just one glance. And it was only ours. I felt him feel it, with that quiet smile. Yet our mouths moved on about internships and work.

That smile he smiled. I can never forget it. Our eyes met and I switched on.

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Dating Two People: I hate dating

One is light. It is laughter and getting to know each other. It’s stolen kisses and polite wows in bed. It’s easy and clean. It’s see you when I see you and we’ll both have a smile. It’s sweet and it’s honest.

The other could be all those things, and he was at one point. And maybe the difference is just that I care now and never cared before. But with him, for me, it’s crazy. It’s comfortable and yet disconcerting. It’s up in the air and somehow so obvious. It’s walls and fear and pushing away. He pushes me and I push him. I don’t know if it’s hard because it’s not right or it’s hard because it’s so right. With him, if I ever let him in, I know it would destroy me if it didn’t work. It just isn’t fun lately.

I either cut out simplicity and laughter or I cut out insanity and a roller coaster. Seems like a simple choice.

Or is there a love that can get me to care without also driving me insane with complexity? Because I choose him. Someone I’m scared to lose but know that I won’t.

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Somebody I don’t need to escape from.

— I.C.

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The love I can’t not love. |I.C.

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a guy who’s picture can make me hungry and who’s smile can make me smile. a guy who’s words sound like jazz and who’s eyes speak more than his tongue.

-

|I.C.

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I know that I don’t want him.

And yet I want him so badly.