Fight Me

Free to be me; still figuring out who that is

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I'm desperately in love.

Did- did you read that?

Desperately

In

Love

Which as many of you know is not anything particularly new. I've fallen in love with friends and strangers and characters and dreams, to be in love is not a rare thing for me.

This is why I'm waiting to say it until September. We'll have been dating for 6ish months at that point, and science (a single article I read once that I likely could never find again) says 6 months is when the honeymoon phase starts to end. 6 months is when this should fade, if it will, so 6 months is how long I'm waiting.

Why am I waiting, though? To give myself time to change my mind? To give him time to show me who he really is? To give us time to realize whether we truly want this?

To give him time to figure out I'm not the one?

That wasn't what this post was supposed to be about. Let me try again.

I'm desperately in love.

Desperately

In

Love

And he is perfect. Which isn't to say that I'm putting him on a pedestal, of course I wouldn't do that. I'll try not to do that. I know he has flaws, but those flaws seem to match up perfectly with mine, just like his hands and his smile and his twisted sense of humor. Perfect.

Now I have this constant source of inspiration. All I want to do is draw his soft eyes and write about his gentle breathing and dedicate books and poetry and sililoquys to his beauty - is this what having a muse is like? My mind has been stuck on a multi-media piece, his hands holding my bleeding, dripping, glittering heart, and I've never had an art piece thats demanded to be made quite like this one is.

I know it's nothing new, you guys have watched me write poem after poem for fleeting crushes, but I think this guy actually deserves the attention. Thats the difference, I guess. None of this is truly new, except for him. His prescense. His attention. His reciprocation.

I am desperately in love.

Desperately

In

Love

But for once, I've found someone that makes that feel alright. Manageable.

September can't come soon enough, I think.

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I'm tired.

Bored.

Boredom never looks good on me.

It stretches the edges of my mouth

Yet never smiles

Deadens the sparkle in my eye

That barely returned

Makes me wonder if its worth it

Any of it

The purpose of my life is to be entertained

What am I without that?

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I could easily spend the rest of my life with you

I will, if you let me

And though I have an active imagination

It barely needs to be used

You've already shown me what it'll be like

Slow mornings with grasping hands and warm skin

Work days that end with sweet kisses and soft voices

Small adventures often:

Concerts and beach trips and picnics and easy drives

Longer trips that take us far from the house

But never far from home

Conversations that never truly end,

Limited only by the falling sun and our ability to stay awake

Rambling words about books or stories or work or ideas or

Plans

With you

I could easily spend the rest of my life here

Right here

With you

But I can't wait to see where else it takes us

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I twist like a sunflower

At the sound of your voice

Petals reaching for the sun

That shines from you

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

Here's my heart

Your name stitched on the side

For you to hold

Massage it in your hands

Feel the way it beats for no one else

In a steady rhythym

See the cracks and breaks

Filled like fine china with a golden shine

Visibly broken, yet beautiful still

Know that I hand it to you

Only you, with a message that no one

Has respected before

"Fragile" stamped in bold letters

Know what it means to hold it

My heart is a gift never meant for me

Returned more often than I'd like

Given once more in hopes that

You keep it

Maybe forever, if you'd like

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I'm scared

This feels real, and

He's so incredibly sweet, and

This could be more than temporary.

I'm terrified of that.

Being perceived is my greatest fear

And he wants to know

Everything

About me.

No one but me should end up

Trapped

With my thoughts.

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

Falling for you is going to be as easy as falling

Asleep

What a strange thing to say, given my propensity towards insomnia

Nights upon nights spent staring

At false constellations

Pocketing the ceiling,

Waging war against pillows and blankets

Pulling at skin and

Searching for comfort and

Struggling

To do something which, to everyone else,

Seems to come naturally

And yet, I have good nights too

Unconciousness rushing up

Like a wave

That you've turned your back to,

Exhaustion so deep that there is no battle, no war, no struggle, only submission.

Dreams that do not pull or follow

Into wakefulness,

But release with a gentle goodbye.

Learned from every night -

No matter the fight, however useless,

Sleep comes for us all

And so, falling for you will be as easy as

Falling

Asleep

Does that make sense?

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I am quiet,

With you.

I tried to explain it earlier,

I'm not sure you got the

Whole picture.

I am quiet,

When you are around.

The whole of me.

Silence is not something,

With which I am,

Well aquainted;

My mind is always making noise.

The thoughts I fall asleep with,

Follow me into wakefulness.

Music is applied to drown out the

Screaming that never seems to end.

Daydreams stick and twist and,

Keep me trapped for hours,

And yet with you: Peace.

A stillness that I have yet,

To adapt to.

It's out of the norm,

For me,

And so yes,

Maybe it is a little uncomfortable.

Change often is.

Give me time.

I can be loud.

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

Butterflies remind me of high school

Emotions I feel I should have outgrown

Brought forth by a smile

Or a text

Or even just the thought of you

I know what this is

Who I am

Dopamine is addictive, you are my supplier

The lovergirl pull is one I could never escape

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

Babes,

He wrote me a poem.

Read that again.

He wrote me a poem.

Just for me.

I'm not going to share it so don't even ask.

Standing at work, smiling stupidly at the blender while I prep food, all I can think about is how:

I've never had someone match my energy like this before. Usually I'm clingy and over-excited and hyperfixated and in love before I've even realized that was an option. And he wrote me a poem.

*screaming, crying, throwing up*

I think, due to previous experiences and an over-abundance of caution, which is not generally something I have to draw from, I've been a little distant. Arms length. My last crush went poorly and my last relationship went even worse. I'm scared of making the same mistakes.

Here's the thing though:

Life is short. And also incredibly long. And boring, and exciting, and overwhelming, and sad, and happy, and everything in between. And I think I'd rather deal with the potential for more hurt and pain, then avoid something that could bring me untold joy.

Maybe this is just a fling that runs its course in a few months. Maybe we decide to just be best friends who know what each other's bodies taste like. Maybe this isn't going anywhere. But why would that make it any less enjoyable?

And maybe (Goddess help me) this turns into something more. Maybe it becomes a reason to get out of bed on the bad days. Maybe he wants to travel and dance and read and leave this godforsaken state I've found myself returning to time and time again.

This could be good. I'm not going to deny myself something I want just for the sake of protecting my own heart. That would be rather selfish, don't you think?

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I literally just admitted to someone other than myself that I had a crush on someone in my friend group. Not even 24 hours later, he tells me that he has a crush as well. At the end of the same day.

You'd think I would have been elated, but his fingers were wrapped around mine and he had the sweetest look on his face and I panicked. My heart dropped and all I could think was please don't.

I wanted more time. I wanted to bask in the butterflies and watch my crush grow until I could be certain of it. The last time I liked someone it devastated me.

What if I'm not ready to date? What if I never heal enough for another relationship? What if all this does is ruin a friendship?

A date doesn't have to lead to a relationship, and life is too short not to date the cute guy, but I just don't know friends. I don't want to mess it up, but that's my greatest skill. I am a broken porcelain lovergirl doll, dropped one too many times, and the cracks that have formed cannot be erased.

All this to say we have a date on Monday. I let my roommates talk me into not overthinking, which I'm sure you all can tell is going swimingly. I figured we can take things slow. A date doesn't have to mean a relationship, a crush doesn't have turn into forever. And he is cute.

We have this joke, that he is me and I am him. I know people say opposites attract, but now I've literally found myself in someone else and I don't know. Whats that saying? Abused children speak a language that healthy children can never learn? Well, maybe its time I date someone that speaks the same language as me.

And again, I remind myself that a date can just be a date. Or maybe a date can turn into a couple of dates, or a handful of them.

Liking a boy does not necessarily equate to giving up on my dreams.

And who knows, maybe he'll decide to fit into my future.

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I do not share my poetry.

The term poetry is used lightly as I fill line after line with incoherent rambling, a consious stream of thought that one could call poetry, if one were inclined to believe themselve a poet.

I do not share my poetry.

This amalgamation of words is not something that I reserve for any eyes but my own, an almost uncomfortable amount of me left behind with every tap of the keyboard, every stroke of a pen.

I do not share my poetry.

It's nearly involuntary, the way these letters form words and sentences in front of my own eyes, revealing more of me than I would ever offer a person on my own.

I do not share my poetry.

Never have I been able to convince myself that the person I show it to will understand exactly what they've been given access to, my entire being served on a plate, and maybe they can see the components but they can never truly comprehend the whole dish.

I do not share my poetry.

Usually.

Generally.

Tormented as I am both by my desire to be known entirely and my fear of that exact thing.

I've always kept this piece for me.

But I wouldn't mind you knowing me, and I think, even if you aren't a poet or an art critic or a writer, you would still parse every word for it's meaning.

I do not share my poetry.

I've always wanted to.

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

We haven't even been on a date yet, but all I can think about are your hands on me and your lips on mine and that perfect grind that builds and builds and -

Suffice to say, I'm rather distracted.

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

You think I'm gorgeous

Intelligent

Amazing

Out of your league

I blush and smile and giggle and struggle

To find the words

In the moment

So maybe you don't know

But

I think you're sweet

Funny

Patient

Motivated

Kind

Your hand fits perfectly in mine

And

Your smile keeps me up at night

And

I already want to spend all of my free time

Right

Next

To

You

I didn't expect this

How you fell for me

Is something I will never know

But I'll thank a God I don't believe in

Just for the chance I've been given.

[zerozerozio]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[boimann]

reblog to let people know it's ok to bother you with questions and statements

[maximummischief-theangerwithin]

I have a new crush.

Its small and simple and easy,

Doesn't burn or ache or hurt,

As they so often do,

But its there.

Like a dandelion growing through pavement,

I wasn't sure I could do it.

Life will out, I suppose.

We break, we fall, we grow, we heal,

And even after everything else,

I still have the capacity to love.