fictional semantics

dreams more important than sleep. All quotes are mine.

[thefictionalsemantics]

She wasn't beautiful for the way her features aligned themselves, or for the way her hair framed her face perfectly. She was beautiful for the way she thought. She was beautiful for her ability to outweigh the negatives with positives. She was beautiful for seeing beauty in everything. She was beautiful for going out of her way to help others. She was beautiful for the warmth in her soul and the love in her heart. She was beautiful for the way her smile could brighten up any room. She was beautiful for the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. Being beautiful doesn't necessarily have to fit into the standards held by society. The number you see when you step on a scale should not define who you are. The length of your hair does not determine the success you can achieve. The width of your waist does not determine whether or not you are worthy enough to be loved.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

She wasnt beautiful. She didn’t have long legs or perfect skin. She didn’t bother to sit up straight or de-tangle her unruly hair. She never tried to impress anyone with her appearance. She wasn’t the type of girl that boys wanted and girls wanted to be. She was, however, captivating. Soul consuming, mind boggling, indescribably mesmerizing. Though on most occasions, she preferred to go unnoticed. They way she carried herself with immense confidence made people want to go out of their way for her. She walked with such grace yet conviction, you’d think she’d never lost her way in her life. She rarely ever talked, but when she did she spoke with such raw passion that it made everyone want to listen to what she had to say. She was bold and relentless and demanded the respect of everyone she’s ever come across. Her strong independent nature often drove away men who were easily intimidated and insecure, so she became used to the lonely nights, unaware that the perfect man for her was right under her nose. Too many people are in love, and not together.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

I knew I was totally screwed when he made an appearance in my dreams. He consumed my every thought, from the time I woke to the time I layed my head to rest. I knew it was wrong, but it felt right. He was the forbidden apple in my garden that called out to me in every waking moment. I know the second my lips make the slightest contact with this fruit I will not be able to teach my mouth to forget how it feels. I will not allow my taste buds to forget the explosions of passion that danced on my tongue. The taste that lingers in the back of my mouth when I am banished from Eden and sent into exile will be the only memory that keeps me from falling into a chasm of regret.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

It was two in the morning on a chilling winter night when I came to the realization that I was terrified to love. Goosebumps ran up and down my bare legs as my mind attempted to sort the irrepressible thoughts of loneliness that crept through the back of my mind. My stomach had growled for the millionth time because I believed that by starving myself into the perfect body I would be able to find love and overcome this fear. We are told from a young age that we need a prince to rescue us and true loves kiss to fulfill us but how could I truly meet those standards when I do not live up to the expectations held by some cliche princesses. My therapist once told me it was ironic how much love I could give to everyone except myself and at first I denied it but I thought about how I still cannot look at myself in the mirror without my hands itching to smash it to pieces. How could I expect someone to love me when I can’t even love myself? My fear of love has overcome my desire for it and yet I find myself envying couples in public and swooning over the idea of romance and clinging miserably to anyone who shows me even the slightest bit of affection. The idea of allowing myself to be engulfed in such raging and inexplicable emotions terrifies me, and for that reason I have sworn off love until I am able to love myself.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

Standing idly by, she watched as everything she worked for fell apart. It was bitter sweet, she constructed her own demise. She brought this on herself and found there was no one else to place the blame on. Deep down, she wanted it. She was tired of long nights and early mornings. She was an angel craving chaos, who fell in love with a demon seeking peace.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

We have lost our way and crossed over into manipulations territory. Weary and tired we underestimate it’s powers to control. Our actions fall at our own hands with uncertainty and fear. They follow us for the rest of our lives. Lingering in the back of your mind, always. We start with such confidence when false hopes crashes down on us to destroy the little barricade we put up to protect our fragile egos. Behind a screen it is easy to fake but in person we stand in manipulations territory as the holder of a troubled soul. I watch and await my self inflicted alienation, and welcome it with open arms, for attachments lead to expectations and expectations lead us down the road of disappointments, right back into manipulations territory.

Manipulations territory. TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

You are what you love, not who loves you. You define your own worth. Who everyone sees when they look at you is based off what you see when you look at yourself.

[thefictionalsemantics]

I would give anything to wake up to the smell of smoke and waffles again. I would give anything to feel the body heat you provided those cold winter nights. I would give anything to hear your angelic laugh ring through my ears and see your charming smile spread love to everyone who encounters it. I would give anything to listen to you click that annoying pen a million times while you try to study. I would give anything to have your hands run through my hair or trace patterns on my skin. I would give anything to be with you again.

You don’t know what you have till its gone. TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

Falling in love with a writer gives you a completely different experience from every relationship you've ever had. There is nothing else to compare it to. They will always know what to say and how to say it. Their declarations of love with be so beautifully thought out that, it can make you reevaluate everything you thought you knew about love. They remember the little things, like the story behind the scar on your left knee, or how you like your eggs scrambled. They remember that you always knock three times, or that you blink when ever you curse. They bring you new perspectives of the world. They change your outlook on everything you considered negative, and turn it into a blessing, so that you start looking forward to things instead of dreading them. They tell stories in such depth that you'll feel as if you've traveled the world and experienced everything it has to offer, without even leaving home. You'll find yourself wanting to experience every beautiful thing out there with them, just to be able to hear the scribbled melodies that their enigmatic mind has processed into beautifully written poetry. The mind of a writer is indeed beautiful, but it can also be a dark and dangerous place. If they allow you to look past the flowers blooming in the deepest crevices of their mind, you'll also find its infiltrated by poisonous herbs and weeds that have the power to overtake any garden it comes across in another's mind. Dating a writer is a risk, that can either end beautifully or tragically

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

November 15, 2014 I lost you November 15, 2014 Things will never be the same November 15, 2014 I still cry myself to sleep some nights November 15, 2014 When I look back to that day, it tears me apart November 15, 2014 I often find myself reliving it November 15, 2014 Searching for any morsel of a warning sign November 15, 2014 I don't believe I will ever find closure November 15, 2014 Its been two years November 15, 2014 The memory of you laughter rings through my ears clear as day November 15, 2014 That day haunts me November 15, 2014 I used to look forward to it November 15, 2014 Fall used to bring me happiness November 15, 2014 Without you, I don't think I'll ever know happiness again November 15, 2014 I lost you November 15, 2014 I never had a lot going for me to begin with, and the few things I did have were taken away in the bag that carried out your lifeless body November 15, 2014 I dread the way my mind automatically shuts itself down when the realization sinks in that its the anniversary November 15, 2014 I never got a goodbye November 15, 2014 I never got to tell you how much I love you November 15, 2014 I never got to tell you how sorry I am November 15, 2014 Its too late now November 15, 2014 I lost you

November 15, 2014 TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

He ruined her childhood and made her feel like it was her fault. Instead of protecting her, he chose to turn her into a piece of property. Instead of raising her, he used her to satisfy his needs. Instead of caring for her, he dismantled any love left in her battered heart. He was the closest thing she had to a father figure and he destroyed her outlook on life, with so much of it left ahead of her.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

Because I refuse to conform to the standards set by society. I refuse to cling to a mistake just because I’ve spent so long making it. I refuse to allow the ideals of love consume my every thought. I refuse to believe the only purpose we have on this god forsaken world is to spend every moment searching for acceptance. I refuse to become dependent of someone else and risk losing them, after going my whole life without anything to lose.

I refuse TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

You called me weak for forgetting how to breathe when you weren’t around. You called me pathetic for not understanding that things could never be the same between us. You called me crazy for not wanting to share you with anyone else. You called me annoying for asking you to put in as much effort as I did. You called me a bitch for not supporting your bad decisions. You called me stubborn for standing up for what I believe is right. You called me controlling for trying to make you a better person. You called me a liar when I told you I loved you. I used to believe you said these hateful things because you were hurt, now I realize you’re just an asshole.i

I’m better off without you. TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

I once told myself a day would come when I would be able to love with all that I am fearlessly. I still await for the day that I can learn to fully put my trust into someone. When I think back to when we were together, tidal waves of mixed emotions wash over me. I find myself remincing over the memories we’ve shared and trying to pinpoint the exact time you fell out of love with me. I don’t think Ill ever be able to feel that way about someone again.

TheFicitionalSemanics

[thefictionalsemantics]

And I find myself alone at the brink of dawn, falling apart and curled into a ball and begging myself to stay strong one more day. I remember all the things that lead up to this moment and regret washes over me. If I could go back and change things I would but I can't and dwelling over the past doesn't do anyone any good. I've run out of ways to say I'm not okay.

TheFictionalSemantics

[thefictionalsemantics]

I was a child. An sweet naive little child. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve to be stripped of my innocence so young. I didn’t deserve to grow up scared and confused. Guilty and insecure. Lost and alone. I can never get that time back. All that time I spent loathing myself. All that time I spent starving. All that time I spent locked away. All that time I spent hurting the ones around me by hurting myself. No one deserves that. To this day I cannot undress in front of others. To this day I haven’t known the touch of a man. To this day I refuse to leave the house after hours. To this day meeting new people drives me into such a panic induced state that it makes me nauseous. To this day I take countless medications in order to counteract against the disorders you’ve placed upon me. The burdens and struggles I have faced in my short life do not compare to any others you’ve ever known about. But I have learned to forgive. I have moved on and become a better, stronger, happier person. I no longer hide in my shell. Nor am I afraid of my own shadow anymore. I couldn’t control what happened in the past, but I’m not going to let it control my future.

Forgive but never forget. TheFictionalSemantics

[thefictionalsemantics]

You hurt me. I trusted you and you hurt me. You ruined everything for me. You left me completely and utterly broken. The day you walked out I remember my battered reflection as I stared into my seemingly empty soul in the bathroom mirror and begged myself to just hold on. The knots in the pits of my stomach that threatened to drive me to the point of physical sickness as I sat on the corner of my bed crouched into a ball. The ache in my chest heavier than a gun. The throbbing headaches that followed the wrenching sobs that raked through my frail weak body. Every inch of my skin that you’ve ever touched felt like it was on fire and the burning sensation overtook my grasp on reality. There are songs I cannot listen to, even years later, without breaking out into a sob. Places I cannot visit without the memories driving me to the brink of madness. Colors that will never appear the same to me. Scents that my nose can’t handle without feeling nauseous. But I have managed to get by, still alive but not living. And when you decide to finally settle down, when the girls and the parties aren’t enough, when your tired of the games, when you yearn for stability. You will think of me. You’ll think of me and remember the endless amount of chances I gave you. You’ll remember the late nights I stayed up with you. You’ll remember the motivation I’d provide. The way I’d push you to do your best. You’ll remember that I loved you, more than anyone else ever could. But it’ll be too late.

You hurt me. TheFictionalSemantics