Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
is it really that bad that i just want someone to like me? i've been miserable all my fucking life, and now, when things could be happening, you come along with my greatest fears and tell me all the things that i don't want to hear, but i know that you're right and i hate that. he gives me the attention i crave of you, and he's sweet and funny and kinda stupid but these are all things i could work with. if he wasn't in love with me this would be so much better. i want something fun, with no strings attached, i just want a distraction from you and all the things you make me feel. i want to know what it's like to be happy with someone to feel loved and wanted, not dying all the time cause you held my hand once, to help me get off the ground. i want to be able to look someone in the eyes and think "i could love this person" instead of "he has this flaw that you don't". and here i am, thinking that i finally could be having fun, and you come around like you're the voice of fucking reason and tell me exactly what's wrong with me. that i am selfish, that i'm breaking his heart, that i shouldn't be so focused in myself (but no one ever has, is it a crime if i want it now?). and you're a fucking hypocrite in some things you've said. you told me he thinks about every walk in the park and every little touch, as if i don't die every day just by looking at you. as if i don't scroll through your texts and re-read them a million times. as if i don't talk to my friends about you twenty-four-seven. as if i don't try to spend every moment with you. as if i don't always make myself avaliable. as if you don't know what you're doing and you just see me as a friend. i love you and i hate you and i don't know if i should cry or shout or kiss you or never speak to you again. and the worst part of it all? i'll never stop loving you.
why won't you text me back? christ, tell me, is it really that hard? it won't take long, i promise. just one short text. that'll do. i'll be fine. just "one sec", just "wait a bit", just "hang on", just "text you soon", anything, anything at all. i'll take anything. i'm used to it. it's you, after all. i'll do anything for you. i'll forgive each and every one of your sins. the last text you sent me was thirty eight minutes past midnight. it is now ten minutes to one. where are you? where did you go? are you asleep already? you would tell me if you had gone to sleep, right? you always do. every night i get a text from you saying "go to sleep, goodnight, till tomorrow". nine minutes until one. i'm starting to become paranoid. why did you leave me like this? i need you like oxygen. it's getting hard to breathe. you still haven't texted me back.