Thursday, February 20, 2014

no hellos

I don’t want to know whether you take your coffee with milk, or whether you prefer it with sugar. I don’t want to know whether your mind runs smoothest under the rising sun, or whether you come alive at night; become electric as the world falls asleep. I don’t want to know about the small town you grew up in, I don’t want to know about your older brother and I don’t want to know about your younger sister — I don’t want to know about the way you love them so unconditionally, how they drive you to be the best possible version of yourself.

I don’t want to know, because I understand what it means to know these things. And I’m not ready — not yet, at least — for all that comes with it.

Now that I think about it, I guess that’s why I didn’t say hello – to erase the possibility, the inevitability of ever having to say goodbye. And I could tell, just by looking at you, from all the way over there in the corner — that saying goodbye to you wasn’t something I’d want to do. Not now, not all over again, not with you.

Sunday, February 9, 2014


I don't think about you a lot. I've never even dreamt about you. Or maybe I have but my brain fears for my sanity so it hid you in the deepest corners. I try so hard not to think about you. But sometimes, this irritating small voice pops up when I'm totally empty and vulnerable. Wanna know what it says? It says "i wish you were mine". Loud and clear. Extremely annoying. And I know I shouldn't. My ragged heart can't take what you have in store.

But I can't stop it. I want to punch that little voice in the throat. Rip out it's chords and grill it. Fuck you. 

It pops up in the most awkward moments too. Sometimes when I'm staring at you. At other times when I'm with someone who deserves me. And whom I deserve.

And I hate it. I hate it with a vengeance. I have never hated a thought this much before. Because no matter how much I deny it.. No matter how much my brain muffles that voice.. There are no words truer than what that little voice is saying. 

I hate you. I do. I hate how you are so far away. And how you love your freedom too much. I hate that you are so adorable. And how you wanted me to hug you. I hate that your heart is just too hard to hold on to. I ignored you for so long. Maybe I shouldn't have. I should have seen you.

You bitch. You stole my heart. Give it baaacckk.

Ok. So maybe I do think about you a lot.