You make it seem so easy to love me for who I really am.
So, I haven't posted in a while. I haven't had much to say.
I'm a horrible daughter because I come home late, even though you said it was okay.
It's not like you have any room to talk. You broke up my family, you lost your house -- which you bought when you knew you couldn't afford it AND quit your job, you can't keep track of the little money that you earn worth a shit, you complain about being thirty pounds overweight and proceed to eat over half of a package of Oreo's within four hours, you track my phone like I'm a criminal with a ankle-bracelet, and, of course, nothing is ever your fault. Ever.
What the fuck is the matter with you?
'I live my life in my head.'
Well, guess what. I live my life out here, in the real world.
Grow the fuck up.
---
I miss three people so much that it hurts.
- I loved you. I may still love you, I have no clue. I feel like its my fault for how much your home life sucked during the time that we were together. Maybe it was, partially; maybe it wasn't. I saw you look at me the other day. Don't ever look at me again, unless you still mean it. I start shaking if I think about you too much. Even after all this time, you still have me fucked up on the inside.
'Save your breath, don't even speak. If you'll speak of change, 'cause you won't. You won't. Cut to the chase. Spare the lecture on what it takes to make a man, 'cause you're weak and I'm strong.'
- Hm, well, I still love you. I don't exactly know in which way; which I've always, always, always been clear with you about. I do know, however, that you're my best friend. I don't care if we don't talk anymore, you're still the closest person to me. You know more about me than anyone in this world, even if you don't understand it all. I really hope that we can move on, one day, and get back to normal. Whatever that means to us.. I want nothing more for you, than for you to achieve what you've always wanted. Also, I know your mind better than you do. You've even admitted it to me before. I understand your logic, why you do the things you do. PS- You have gorgeous hands (in the least perverted way, I assure you), and you're beautiful. In a totally, completely masculine way, of course.
'Just let me go, for now, I'll be just fine. Don'tcha know, don'tcha know now that I'm back on my own. Tell me how it feels to watch the walls of your security crumble. I remember you, you took the easy way out when I gave you something to stand for. I was just another promise that you couldn't keep.'
- Gah, it makes no sense for me to miss you. I mean, you're not even my regular 'type', if I have one. You play football, for Pete's Sake. You're amazingly attractive to me, though. DC was one of the best things to happen for me; becoming friends with you being one of the reasons. Currently, though, I'm wanting you to go to the doctor, ASAP. Unexplained pain, like you described to me, can't mean anything good. And I'd become terribly depressed if something happened to you. Not to mention, I'd break the bank and get my Southern ass up to Iowa if something did happen. You're too sweet, and respectful. You understand that 'no' means 'no', and you didn't pressure for anything further. Which is a miracle for a guy to still understand that, at least here in Elgin.
'Come on, come on. You know this isn't what we planned on. Come on, come on. Tell me we'll be okay. We'll be okay. Let's go back, let's go back.'
---
If you can't tell by now, I'm in a 'A Day to Remember' mood. This is something that happens often. This music makes my ears happy, and its a very effective way to say what I feel.
I want something done with this thing that I call hair. I loveeee the length, and color. I just need...something. Ugh. Anyways, I'ma watch The Stepfather, probably get scared shitless by it, and try to sleep. Goodnight, love.
No comments:
Post a Comment