As much as I write about how breathtakingly gorgeous our young love was, I despise the person you are, or who you try to be. I’m willing to believe that this is some act, some role-play and that you’ll admit it was a stupid joke. I despise the way that you neglected all of my affection towards you, even though you couldn’t stop talking to me. You didn’t ‘just’ leave, you shook the ground and earth to make it look like I made you leave. You turned the tables to set yourself free from the guilt that stroke upon you. I recognize you in the bitterness of my morning coffee, the one that looked so good. Cause that’s the whole point isn’t it? You made it look so fucking good. You made it look like I meant something to you, whilst you we’re just messing around. As a bored child you looked for something entertaining in that rotting life of yours. You rot with al the compost of dying flowers, the ones that ‘they’ gave you, your lovers. Your heart must be deteriorating throwing lovers away as if they were skipping stones. Fine. End up alone. End up with a list of blocked numbers because you couldn’t handle talking it through. You were such a brave girl but dear god you knew how to ignore your problems. I still despise you for that.
Tag: gedicht
‘yours’
It wasn’t about being ‘yours’ or calling you ‘mine’. It was about sharing a bottle of wine at noon because time was only an illusion. It was about sharing our biggest fears underneath a van Gogh starry night sky. It was about admiring each others strength to cut loose from past relationships. It was about giving each other nicknames and being silly about each others weird habits. It was about laughing at jokes, laughing at embarrassing stories, laughing in general. It was about being grateful when someone paid the check, being generous with hugs, being careful whilst running through an orange stop sign. It was about complementing the little things, the way she tucked her hair beneath her ear or how I’d write her letters. It was about casually slipping lovely words to each other and reaching for each others hands. It was everything. It was. It wasn’t love, that I could tell. She was just trying to be nice and I was trying not to fall for her. But I did. I never became ‘yours’ and she never became ‘mine’. My heart is still trying to understand that.
#78
‘But she was so pretty and I’m never going to see her again’
not so ordinary boy
He was so merely fascinated with the words that came out of my mouth. As he asked more and more questions he kept looking at me. He kept patiently looking for more secrets to reveal themselves. But those lines that stumbled out of my mouth had never been secrets, I never had anything to hide. I was never dreadfully mysterious or unexpected. I was an open book and nobody took the effort to read it. I haven’t met numerous people that found my honest answers so fascinating.
He kissed another blonde girl on the cheek, I got reminded by the fact that he wasn’t into me. I knew his kindness towards me shouldn’t be mistaken by affection, that was never his intention. Conjointly I never had intentions to meet his parents or to kiss his cheek. But he was into me at a level that he was more interested with the matrix in my head rather then the revealing ripped jeans.
I didn’t understand what made him different. Why did he care to look at me for more then numerable seconds. He had been educated for longer than necessarily. But he had a drive, an idea, he knew what determination was. He knew what it felt like to be all in in or all out.
He said he never met someone like me, I didn’t feel offended, I knew he wasn’t trying to be negative. And when he asked me about her I looked down and I couldn’t bare seeing her photo again. He noticed the way that my throat burned with her name. He noticed the way I couldn’t handle talking about the fact that she left. The not so ordinary boy said; ‘You really loved her, didn’t you?’
#77
I dreamed that I saw you. I dreamed that you saw me. But those were only dreams, and we never saw each other again.
You and me
It was going to be you and me. It might have supposed to be a you and me. But you were to caught up in the misery of past relationships. You havent healed in any way and you were so distant. I don’t love you, not anymore, I don’t think I ever truly have. I liked the idea of you and me, but now it is just me. I can’t possibly dream of anything better. So for now I’m going to live and listen to my music to loudly. And I’ll stop being miserable about someone I don’t deserve.
They all..
They all wondered and questioned what I was doing.
When I was at school they asked me why I drew roses in my notebooks.
When I wasn’t at school they asked me if I was sick.
When I told them I wasn’t sick they asked me what was going on.
When I told them I was really emotional they asked me why.
When I showed them a photo of a girl they didn’t understand.
When they asked me why I drank red wine I told them they should try it.
When they refused they asked me why I drank another glass.
When I didn’t give them a reason they asked me why I behaved so reckless.
When I asked about their definition of reckless they didn’t answer.
When I booked a ticket to an unfamiliar destination they asked me why.
When I told them I wanted to travel they asked me how I got the money.
When I told them that money wasn’t the issue they said it was an issue.
When I told them experience had more value they didn’t get it.
When I cheated on my boyfriend they all asked me why.
When I said that I didn’t love him they asked me why I was in a relationship.
When I said that I wasn’t anymore they said they felt sorry for him.
When I said I had done the right thing they didn’t agree.
They all wondered and questioned what I was doing.
They still do.
The overthinking 