So many things I wanna say, so little importance they have these days. Maybe not so little of importance, but more like so few ears that they’d matter to. Not so few though, more like only one set of ears that I need to say these words to. I wanna say so many things but I can’t form a complete sentence. It’s all words and sounds, bits and pieces of a chaotic mind.
It will never happen. I can’t think of a reason as to why; I just know it won’t happen. It’s actually quite a bit of a sad story. It’s a lingering sad story. It’s a lingering sad story because you fall down right at the peak. Right when and where you think you’ve won the game. You fall down right when you think there’s hope.
I would miss you. I would miss you before winter; before the lies. I would miss you before the need for cigarettes or fights. I would miss you when it’s 3am on a Friday night. I would miss you when you’re here. I would miss you when you’re there and not here. I would miss your hands in my hair. I would miss you on a rainy night, when street lights are beaming on the wet ground and colors are fading into back. I would miss your laughter in the crowd. I would miss your eyes, wondering about my eyes. I would miss you now, tomorrow, or 50 years from now. I would miss you.
Would waiting make everything disappear? Would it resolve this wrong (or the most right if I may)? Would it ease the situation? Or would waiting make it stronger? Would it make it feel right? Yeah, will make it more desirable and more precious. Would probably make it unforgettable. Lusting rather.
We don’t matter to people as much as they say we do. It’s not a question of importance. It’s a question of priority and affection. Yeah just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. But caring works differently. Principally, it is based on showing. When you don’t show that you care, it is perceived as not caring.
I find it hard to believe. It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do. I really want to believe in it from the bottom of my heart. But I can’t help it; I’m scared. I’m never scared of anything. It brings me down, it’d be my weakness, my end. I’m never scared of anything. It kills me to know that something could put me down, crush my thoughts. But I am scared. I’m scared of losing. I’m scared of getting lost. I’m scared of it all being bubbles of hopes and dreams. Pop! Gone.
Are you scared too?
God I used to hate talking. Nobody can hold up a good conversation these days. I still do. I think it’s whoring yourself out, but it’s so satisfying too (with the right person of course). It’s like downing a giant double patty bacon cheeseburger with extra white cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, grilled mushrooms and grilled onions, lots of ketchup and mayo, side of large sweet potato fries with shit ton of chipotle sauce and beer.. then getting hot fudge ice cream .. so disgustingly filling and satisfying. Like ew but wait.. oh fuck yeah.. “right there, right freaking there”.