I was looking back at the essay you wrote about me that you sent to me in the freshman year. It sucks that I bet you don't feel the same about me. Everything sucks. You just ignore me now and you make me feel like shit. I hate that. But I can't even hate you because I keep thinking that you're just like this. You're tired. You just get tired of people. You'll come around. You'll stop being so mean and bitchy. Whatever.
The thing is, you used to be some of the reason I would cut. And then you were the reason I stopped.
Now there's no reason not to.
I tried to go back and find the conversations we had long time ago. When we actually had good feelings toward each other. I couldn't. They had long gone with my old computer. It made me a little sad to realize this because I knew you had the conversations still, and I couldn't ask you for them.
All I have are the poems you wrote me, and the first fight we had. I don't have anything since then.
I hope you're reading these. Just kidding. I hope you're not. Then you'd know how messed up I probably am.
I hope you know that I don't love you anymore. I'm trying as hard as I can to move on. I'm 95% loaded already. I'm trying hard to be done, and you make it easy and hard at the same time, thanks.
I hate how you can be so insensitive. I know you're just fishing for a reaction. I don't want to respond though. I always feel to stupid around you. I hate myself when I'm with you.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Chapter 44: Music and Books
Books I want to read because John Green said they were good:
The art of fielding chad harbach
Ballad of the whiskey trooper
Behind the beautiful forevers
Sula toni Morrison
The blood of the lamb
Telegraph avenue
Bossypants
The magicians lev grossman
Wolf hall
Emperor of all maladies
The disreputable history of frankie landau banks
Everybody sees the ants
If I stay gale foreman
To say nothing of the dog
Pd james
Dorothy parker
Songs that I like that I found out about recently:
Angels- the xx
A Case of You- James Blake
Girl with One Eye- Florence and the Machine
Crave you Feat. Giselle- Flight Facilities
Something About Us- Daft Punk
Stars- the xx
Heart Skipped a Beat- the xx
Waltz for one- real tuesday weld
Sparks- Coldplay
love me- yiruma
Waltz for one- real tuesday weld
Sparks- Coldplay
love me- yiruma
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Chapter 43: Please be chill about this. It seems like a lot more than it is. It's just.. ugh.
If you ever read this, this is how I feel about you.
I love you. I know you don't feel the same for me. You just don't. And even if you say you like me, there are going to be times for you where you won't like me because you don't feel like feeling it even though there will also be times where you do.
And I also know that when I like you, I will always have more emotion and more of myself invested in you than you will have anything invested in me. I know this because you said so. You said that even if you didn't have me or if I left you, you wouldn't mind so much. You wouldn't care. You don't mean this in a bad way. You never do. It kills me though. It hurts so much. You leave me in a bad way. And it makes me want to leave a scar that shows me that I am hurting. But it would hurt you to find out that you're some of the reason for my scars. So never mind. So anyways. This is why I ended it between us. Even though I still like you. Even though I might possibly still love you. But what do you want from me? What do you want me to be? It hurts, it hurts.
Sometimes I lie awake and think about what might have been. What would it have been like if I didn't end it between us those two times and what would it be like if you loved me and what would it be like if you were capable of loving me. What would it be like if I didn't love you but I know that this is not possible. Because of how amazing you are. And it hurts. And then I get up in the dark and walk to my desk and pull out a small knife and make the cuts on my skin and put a bandage on the cut and go back to bed. And I close my eyes and shut them tight and feel the small cut throb with my chest and my head and try to push all feeling out of my mind and wait for the excruciatingly slow dark of sleep to overcome me.
I love you. I know you don't feel the same for me. You just don't. And even if you say you like me, there are going to be times for you where you won't like me because you don't feel like feeling it even though there will also be times where you do.
And I also know that when I like you, I will always have more emotion and more of myself invested in you than you will have anything invested in me. I know this because you said so. You said that even if you didn't have me or if I left you, you wouldn't mind so much. You wouldn't care. You don't mean this in a bad way. You never do. It kills me though. It hurts so much. You leave me in a bad way. And it makes me want to leave a scar that shows me that I am hurting. But it would hurt you to find out that you're some of the reason for my scars. So never mind. So anyways. This is why I ended it between us. Even though I still like you. Even though I might possibly still love you. But what do you want from me? What do you want me to be? It hurts, it hurts.
Sometimes I lie awake and think about what might have been. What would it have been like if I didn't end it between us those two times and what would it be like if you loved me and what would it be like if you were capable of loving me. What would it be like if I didn't love you but I know that this is not possible. Because of how amazing you are. And it hurts. And then I get up in the dark and walk to my desk and pull out a small knife and make the cuts on my skin and put a bandage on the cut and go back to bed. And I close my eyes and shut them tight and feel the small cut throb with my chest and my head and try to push all feeling out of my mind and wait for the excruciatingly slow dark of sleep to overcome me.
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