Old love, young love, forgotten love…

My mind is just full of strange thoughts today, some of them about a boy, a guy I used to have in my life, and I’ve been thinking about him a lot these past days, more than I would like to admit…

He used to be my everything, like any teenage girl would feel about her first love, I chased him for about 2 years before he finally gave me the attention I required, and after a few months I left him. Even to me, that’s still one of the weirdest things I ever did. And usually, the closer it gets to May, the more I miss him, but I’ve realised something. I don’t miss HIM.

I miss the feeling…

The feeling of getting a message from him, out of the blue and knowing I was on his mind.

The feeling of looking out my front door, minutes after my mom left for work, and seeing his bike in front of the gate, ready to come and cuddle up next to me

The feeling of holding hands in public, and basically telling the world, look, some one choose ME

The feeling of getting to kiss him, whenever the whim struck

The feeling of spending the whole day together, and still needing more

The feeling of having someone to share the little things with

And after having some one in your life for 3+ years, it’s difficult not having them, even it was 3 years since I’ve last kissed him…

But you know what the worst part is; we didn’t end on good terms… And I hate that. I hate that I can’t tell our story without feeling a little tinge of ‘he was an asshole’ and he was… Because even though I was the one who finally did the break-up, he ended our friendship after that.

The last conversation I had with him went a little like this…

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but, ummm, my dad passed away, and, ummm I kinda need you now, because I don’t know exactly how I’m going to cope without you holding me together.”

“Hey, please leave me alone, I thought we were done.”

Cue the new waterfall of tears…

And that, along with the fact that he was a cheating scumbag, made me hate him, more than I ever thought I will. And it makes me sad, knowing that someone who meant that much to me, years ago, is not in my life any more…

This above story is also the reason why I try not ending anything on bad terms, I will fight, that’s a guarantee, but I will also probably make the first step to better things, because I hate that feeling of losing someone and knowing it ended badly.

I’m not sad that I lost him, I know now he was not some one I need in my life anymore, but I honestly hope that I never have to lose some one I care about that much again, in that way…

Some day I think life would’ve been better not meeting him at all, because then I didn’t have to live with the knowledge that someone like him existed in this world. Then there wouldn’t have been anything to miss. But I needed to meet him, to show me how to go on, how to survive, how to not need some one, how to be me, how to love, how to be.

Now I just need to remember that…

Thank you…

Miss 101!

So, Miss Alysia over here at this epic blog was follower number 101, and as I am still waiting for number 100 to reply on my guest blog offer, I asked her if she would like to contribute something, and boy did she deliver?!

Here is an amazing poem from the hands of Alysia!

Shadows Array
 
From the moonlight we see
 
Those who dwell within
 
Cross my heart and pray
 
It was just but him
 
I can see no more the light shining through
 
But feel the rain that bears I shall do
 
Standing there, just shadows array
 
Falling above from within the sky
 
From the sunshine we glimpse
 
Those that form the ray
 
Holding each breath
 
Hoping he would say
 
I can feel the heat burning right through
 
But sense him say that I did too
 
Standing there just shadows array
 
Falling above from within the sky
 
From the gathering we eye
 
Those that lie beneath
 
Placing what’s left
 
Nothing but wreath
 
I can hear the final words echoing through
 
But say to myself why is it you
 
Standing there just shadows array
 
Falling above from within the sky
written by alysia

Thank you, Alysia!!

 

What to believe…

The reasons I’m missing you, has nothing to do with the fact that you are not here, or that I fell in love, or that you are not contacting me.

Okay, it might have something to do with the lack of communication.

But mostly, it has to do with all the things you made me believe in. All the thing you made me believe about myself.

You made me believe that I am good, and that I deserve good things in life

You made me believe that Jack and music can fix almost anything (and now I crave Jack more than anything)

You made me believe that it is near impossible to wake up with out a good proper cup of coffee – a very expensive habit

You made me believe that words aren’t always needed, but that actions can’t always be trusted

You made me believe that I am better than dating a 50-year-old, just because he’s the only one interested.

You made me believe that I could actually write… well, you believed in me, and now I believe as well

And then you left… Now I’m not sure what to believe. Because for the first time in a very long time, I allowed myself to hope…

To hope that all you made me believe was true.

And now I’m pretty sure I was just a roadmarker on your way, and I’m okay with that.

I’m not happy, I’m not perfect, I’m not satisfied. but I’m okay.

Because this was a silly flirtation, and I was a fool, for believing in you… Of all the things I believed, that you actually cared, that was the most foolish one of them all.

I hope you miss the silly little girl, at least just a little bit. Because this is me, giving up on believing in you…

 

I should know by now…

Not that I think you care,
But I like you

Not that I really care,
But I think you like me too.

Not that I think you care,
But I would like to kiss you.

Not that I really care,
But I think you want to kiss me too

Not that I think you care,
But I will miss you

Not that I really care,
But will you miss me too?

Not that I think you care,
But I don’t want to see you go

Not that I really care,
But do u have to go?

Not that I think you care,
But is there a little part of you
That actually care?

Not that I really care,
But do you realize I’m just pretending,
And it’s really actually hurting?

open letter…

(DISCLAIMER – this is a long letter, to no one… read at own risk. and I know the grammar and punctuation sucks. But then again, I’m the writer, so there must be a reason for the lack of punctuation…)
 
im done…
that’s what i told myself
but then why are you stuck in my head like a bad cold? 
this wasnt my imagination…
this wasnt in my head
ive read somewhere that love, feelings, infatuation, whatever you want to call it, is never completely one-sided. then why this? this hot and cold treatment? 
this run around with my infatuation for you.
u’re giving me whiplash..
u’re making me quote twilight!
why go out?
why make me dinner?
why go on with this silly correspondence?
if there is nothing? why not just leave me alone…
this wasnt my imagination…
this wasnt in my head
im not insane
but i AM DONE
im finished trying to understand
im done fishing with ur mind
and MOSTLY im done with whatever mad, mad game u are playing…
because, if i understand one of your million cryptic messages correctly,  I DO deserve better. i do deserve the ‘greatest gift’ from some one who is willing to give it to me. from some one who isn’t afraid. because love and feelings and all that will always scare everyone. but if u want something badly enough, you will go through the afraid. just to see what lies on the other side… and sure, if you have been to the other side and gotten hurt beyond repair, that afraid will seem thicker and harder to work through. but u cant throw every maybe and what if away…
people say they stay out of things, to not get hurt, to not hurt others. dont you think it hurts anyway? it hurts because u are so wonderful, and u give a fuck. u are so amazing and u dont care.
the most wonderful things could be waiting on the other side of that afraid… and im not saying that im something wonderful, because im not… but i couldve been. we will never know… u werent willing to give our maybe a chance.
but i was.
maybe too willing
maybe too into it from the get go.
im not insane…
this wasnt all in my head
you cant miss someone who meant nothing to you… 
and you meant something, obviously, otherwise, i wouldnt be missing you as much as i am…
this wasnt all in my head…
this wasnt all in my imagination.
but then again
this is what i do.
i build these things up in my head, and make them bigger and better.
then i start believing my head…
instead of reality
then my heart starts to follow, because my head tells it what a great idea it is.
And then I scare people of.
i freak them out, without even trying, because that’s what i do… because its in me to be over the top. to jump into relationships, even just a supposedly fun and flirty one, with everything. because i dont know how not to do that…
even when i know, in my head and heart, that i am not ready for my big, epic love. and that i know you are certainly not my big, epic love.
i still jump into the first sign of ‘like’ as if my life is depending on it… because, in all honesty, being addicted to you, to love, to heartache and heartbreak, is a whole lot safer, and healthier, than cutting, drinking and all the other useless things people get addicted to… 
I wanted a flirtation…
I wanted some fun.
but all my actions pointed to me wanting something more, something permanent. 
is this my way of ruining my own chances? is this how i safe my heart? by pretending to be overly in love, when i know its not what i want or need. 
then again…
maybe my heart knew something i didn’t. we didnt…
this letter is on the point of becoming pointless…
maybe because i know you will never read it, and i keep on writing in the hopes that the longer the letter, the bigger the chance of you seeing what is going on in this messy head of mine… 
God… every song i hear makes me think of you. why? why? why? why did we have to have so much in common?
why did you have to be so close to the guy i have been waiting for?
was this all just coincidence?
is God, faith, cupid, whatever, sitting up there laughing at me, thinking, as you are, that im some stupid little girl who actually though life was going in the right direction for her for once…
w
t
f
was this in my imagination…
was this all just in my head…
im sorry…
im sorry for thinking there was more.
im sorry for bothering you
im sorry about being so very ME
and lastly im sorry for everyone suffering through this letter…
I read somewhere once, rather regret the things you did, than the things you didn’t… 
i dont regret trying, but maybe one day you will regret that you didnt…
 
ive been thinking and i dont regret it, any of it, im sorry, sorry i made a fool of myself, sorry i thought i was actually worth ur time. but i dont regret it. i dont regret trying, i dont regret jumping when i shouldve waited. i dont regret being me, even if me was obviously not what u wanted. 
 
mostly… im sorry for being such a little girl… 
 
Maybe one day you will read this and know…
 
(this post was written a while ago… and who knows if i still mean everything said here. but it needs to get out. so I’m posting it on one of my favourite days, at my favourite time)

Writing is my curse…

I made myself belief I want to be a writer, years ago, I think I was in grade 10, and I stuck to that… I don’t usually stick to things, I jump in, head first, for a few days, sometimes even weeks, and then it sizzles out.

But writing… writing stuck…

I don’t know why, but whatever I’m feeling, writing helps that emotion. If I’m happy, and I write, I become happier. When I’m feeling a tad depro, and I write about it, it’s like the ink that flows onto the paper is my black mood, and when I’m done with that poem, flash fiction, letter, email, blog post, I feel better. I feel good.

And the weirdest part is, I write better when I’m sad, and I write sad stories a lot better than happy stories. Some head-doctor will try to diagnose that to something, but to me it just means I understand the sad part of my brain better than I do the happy part.

Because my happy-brain, she’s a bitch… She throws herself into things with no regrets and no handle on life. She jumps, no thinking about consequence or reason, because she is a flowerchild, a flowerchild who covers up the sadness, who magics away the blackness.

I’m probably crazy, I get that a lot, but writing helps with that craziness, writing takes a bit of it away, and sometimes puts a bit back. But mostly, writing is just an outlet for the crazy…

I tell myself, I write because I want to leave something behind, I want a legacy, or at least a shot at one… but I lie… I write because a new notebook and pen is way cheaper than a shrink and a prescription for antidepressants. And if, maybe, my writing one day means something, to some one else… yay… but at the moment, and most of the time, I write for selfish reasons. To help myself, and to get praise…

But this curse of writing, its something I don’t ever want to lose, or swap for anything. because it means so much to me…

Why do you write??

 

Love Always,

Marlize

Gimme a moment…

Gimme a moment
to fall out of love
with all you are.
 
Gimme a moment
to remember
all the why not’s
 
and forget
all the what if’s
 
Gimme a second
to not dream
hope 
and wish…
 
Gimme a second
and stop
being so amazing
and perfect
 
And everything else
I’m not allowed 
to be in love with
 
Gimme a minute
an hour
a lifetime
with you.
 
Gimme a reason
for all
of your excuses
 
Gimme a reason
for being
so very stubborn
 
Gimme a moment…
 
I fell in love
Again
 
I need one more moment…
To fall out of love
with you
 

*Thank you, for being the perfect inspiration, and for making me so confused that I can only express myself in poetry. I need this. Thank you, very being so very YOU*