#thingsiwillneversay

[nova-the-oc]

Things I won’t tell you

I still like you. Don’t get me wrong I love being friends with you, love it to death, but I hate it. I hate that I don’t want to lose you as a friend so much that I can’t tell you any of this. That I won’t tell you any of this. Like it legitimately scares me to even think of you finding out.

I’ve had crushes before, believe me you’re not the first, but I’ve never crushed on anyone as long as I have for you or as hard as I fell for you. No I don’t mean that as in ‘fall in love’ don’t worry because to fall in love I believe you have to know the persons darkest self and we are still becoming friends. I think it’s more ‘falling for you’ as in like liking you more and more everyday.

I want to kiss your stupid lips and hold your stupid hand. I want to make you laugh and smile. I want to hug you as tight as I can and make dumb jokes. I want to be there cheering you on at your soccer games with your jersey number painted on my face.

I want to call you at 3 am when I can’t sleep and for you to do the same with me. I want you to tell me all your hopes and dreams as we watch the either sun set or rise, your choice. I want you to put you arm(s) around me.

I want it all so badly, all of that with you. But I won’t tell you any of this because I’m afraid of the pain it would cause and I don’t want to lose the friendship we just started.

[i-book-bandit]

I can promise you forever.

But I can’t guarantee right now.

[i-book-bandit]

Personal

I miss that feeling I always get when I read something true. People always say things like “that resonates with me” or that there is “a ring of truth” to certain words. But I feel truth vibrating in my very bones. It pulses in my veins like a living thing. And this is why I love literature, why I love words so much. Because when I feel that truth, I feel as though I am standing on the precipice of some great understanding, as though I could almost grasp it, almost understand it. But words are so conditional and abstract, based on interpretation and situation. And so I am almost always left on the edge of that cliff. Few words, very few words indeed, have sent me tumbling over. And when I finally do write something, most of it will make me feel as if I am at that cliffs edge, and I will know I have gotten it right when, at last, I am free falling.

[i-book-bandit]

Personal

I think I have finally figured out the source of my insomnia.

Here is my problem;

I Dream too much during the day, then, when night falls, I do entirely too much thinking.

I am so backwards. A Day Dreamer and a Night Thinker.

Not my fault that a dark, quiet world is easier to think in.

Not my fault that my waking hours are when I need the most dreaming.

[nova-the-oc]

I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love,

And though you’ve broken my heart,

without even realizing,

I wouldn’t give it up for the world,

Some days I regret falling for you,

But never our laughs,

our jokes,

our smiles,

Never that.

[ohclairexo]

A rant.

What’s the point in pretending that someone doesn’t exist? Have you ever actually stopped to think of the effect that has on someone? Shall I tell you the effect that has on me?

Now I wonder what it is that I actually did wrong. Worrying that there’s something wrong with me. Was I too annoying? Or did I say the wrong thing? Was it annoying that I wanted to speak to you? Is it annoying that I care about you or that I worry about you?

The most obvious answer is that all I was, was someone to past the time away. Someone better came along and you decide to fuck me off. The exact same thing you did to me before.

The truth is you’re not bothered about me at all. You’re not bothered about how I feel and you’re not bothered that this situation has made me feel rubbish.

I do hope you see this and I do hope you realise that despite this, I’ll be there.

I’m too much of a good fucking person but I don’t think you’ll ever realise that.

[i-book-bandit]

Personal

My thoughts can be so overwhelming.

Sometimes there’s lots, a whole jumbled mess.

Sometimes there’s just you.

I’m trying to figure out how it is that both can carry the same weight.

[i-book-bandit]

Personal

Sometimes I feel like an echo.

Like I’m bouncing around in empty space. Like I’m just a shadow, a reverberation of myself.

Sometimes I feel like the empty space where the echo should be.

There are days when I’m only capable of bouncing sounds, sights, emotions off my cavernous walls.

Days when I feel so hallow.

I don’t remember the last time I felt like I was the source from which anything might emanate.