A little bit of insanity
March 07, 2002 @ 11:13 a.m.
My eyes burn.
This is something that I wrote to Kyle a couple of nights ago. I want to share it with you:
I remember the first time I looked into those eyes of yours. I was staring at a green mohawked boy, half-awake and wholly confused.
And I fell for you then.
That sounds shallow and pretentious but it's also completely true. I saw so much in your eyes that I knew you would be good for me.
I never imagined that things would turn out the way that they have. I wouldn't change anything from the first couple of months, not a single thing.
But I would do anything to erase these past couple of months. Because I've fallen too deep and you've grown more distant and I think we both secretly wish for the past.
I signed our death warrant that night, the last night it seemed that we completely opened up to each other. I assumed too much.
I fell for you again.
Deep down, you knew. You knew of my feelings, were used to breaking girls' hearts. And you didn't really care enough about mine.
Then came Susanne.
And things have been so miserable since her. I want the you back that I knew, that I fell for. I can go back too; I can fake it better than you realize.
(Then again, you always could read right through me...)
But you won't change back. You've refused to see that you've changed at all. In reality, you've become callous, and cold. Oh so cold.
And you wonder why Susanne won't trust you yet. You leave a gaping hole in yourself, and fill it with temporary bravado, fake sincerity, and unused nonchalance.
Yes, I have my faults. And yes, I will admit that I have changed. But I never challenged your shortcomings; only tried to help when I thought I could.
You have forsaken me.
And it makes me very sad, because you used to be so sensitive to my feelings. Even when I would deny my suffering, you could read through me and see it.
How you could see past the facade I never knew. Few can. But you represented something in me then, made me feel special and needed.
Now I'm just another needy girl who cares too much about all the things you don't and refuse to have time for.
And I still am falling for you, even now.
Even after you insulted the core of my soul and pushed me away. I see your game now; I am sensitive to it.
I am still waiting for you to laugh with me again, make believe and create and make things right again.
I'll be waiting, for when you come back to being the old Kyle -- when you come back to being my Snoogins -- again.
Here is another something I've written as of late. Try and guess who this is for:
It's been one day.
One day since I've claimed autonomy from him, since I vowed to forget his gaze.
And he is omnipresent in my thoughts.
I am in love with the idea of love, but I want to make him an example of this love. I want to trace the sketchings with him, erase all the marks that are unneeded.
I want to be with him not because I feel it is the only way I will ever be with someone. No, I want to be with him because he is an option, a way for me to explore and make clear this obsession with love.
I want to chain myself to his promises, be beside him and encourage his potential. I want to free him of the bondage that is loneliness and in doing so free myself.
I instead settle for lonely nights where yearning for his comfort has become the norm. A world of fantasy and ideal corrupts my mind, blurring the truth of him and of myself.
I glance around constantly, expecting to see his face. I find myself giving in more and more to the lackadaisical moments of fancy, an idle mind's plaything. He is part of me now just as breathing, and like a wonderful disease he has wrapped himself around me and covered me in duty. There is much I must do to forget him, starting with the throwing out of all things pretend.
It's been one day.
And already, I must work to forget him.
The wool has finally been pulled from my eyes on him. I understand what he is, and although I want to accept it, I find myself hesitating. I'm always hesitating.
I left work feeling icky today, but also smiling. Ryan entertained me for a bit.
He asked me about the interlibrary loans in a British accent and I couldn't help but smile. After he said "Cheerio" I nearly fell over.
Cheerio is Kyle's word.
Not only do they look alike, but they speak alike. That's rather frightening. But in a good way, somehow.
Oh, and does he smell good. He walked by and my heart rose into my throat. I love a guy that knows how to use aftershave.
And his voice is oh-so-calming. I just feel at peace with him. I don't know why. His voice is just so utterly calming.
He told me he was plastered this morning. I looked at him, and he pointed to his shirt.
"I stopped by the art department before work."
Ah, Ryan. Definitely a nice thing to wake up to in the morning. Whomever his girlfriend is, she's lucky.
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- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006