Quiet Heart

Please don’t ever let me go. Please don’t ever say ‘No’. Please don’t leave – don’t run away. I wish there was something I could do to guarantee that you’d stay. Unfortunately I know of the risk, the chance, the probability that you'll get sick of me… and then switch off, shut down and move on.

Friends can be so fickle… and I am often far too trusting with the most dangerous of said ‘friends’. I get caught up, enveloped and consumed by my friendships when they've developed to a certain degree. I love too much. I care too deeply… I exist far too intensely.

I cannot expect you to stay, I suppose. Greater men than you have tried… Okay, not really. I just know that you are just like all of those who have been harmed in knowing and being loved by me. You are normal yet in a wonderful way that is so unlike my own nature. You know how to get what you want. You know how to be yourself. You know not to have a soft spot for emotional vampires like me. You are so wonderfully human… while I seem to be nothing close but rather that which is inferior to you. Therefore, I understand why you’re so eager to run from me – this monster.

While I know of the atrocity that my existence is characterised by, I am neither ashamed nor apologetic for it. I know no shame in being who I am… for whom I am is who I was made, by God, to be. Your dislike of me does not hinder my self-esteem as it used to when I did not understand the components of my own character. I rest firmly in the affirmation that my own existence is not coincidental or unintentional but rather planned by a higher power – a loving, all-knowing God. That is my belief… although I don’t expect your agreement or respect in its regard because it won’t alter my own faith. I have been designed with a purpose in mind and therefore I cannot apologise for being the person that I am because I didn't choose to be this way – I can only choose to embrace or disown myself. Others have the same choice in regards to me. They may choose whether they leave or stay. They can choose to love or to hate. You may choose my fate – acceptance or rejection.

I wish you’d be different. I wish it was all different. I wish that I didn't love to a point of obsession or care to point where it hurts. I wish I wouldn't kill with kindness. I wish that who I am was not so intrusive on other people’s lives. I wish that I didn't push people away by showing them emotions that I sometimes even fail to understand. I wish people would understand… but I can’t expect them to. I have to expect people to leave… because that way I won’t be hurt when they inevitably and ultimately do. I can only wish that you’d stay. I can only wish you’d be the one who wouldn't want or feel the need to run away.

Unfortunately, I love you. Unfortunately, that fact will never change. My grasp and execution of emotion are both a blessing and a curse. I cannot love you fully without freaking you out… because you don’t understand my capacity for love. You don’t understand my ability to love… because, in all honesty, it isn't normal. That being said, just because it’s abnormal doesn't imply that it is wrong. The fact that I am able to love you so deeply is not a cause for me to be ashamed… it is only a pity that it is not something other people understand or accept very easily and therefore I become marginalised – I become a freak, a creep… a weirdo.

So here I am… trying not to show you just how much I have come to love you because I'm terribly scared of the possibility that you’re going to leave. I don’t want to end up pushing you away if it can be helped. It hurts – it hurts so much when someone you love no longer wants to be a part of your life… especially when it is allegedly your own fault. I can’t stop myself from loving you or anyone else important to me… but for the sake and happiness of you and perhaps for myself, I will hide my love from you so as to not give you reason to reject, condemn and hate me.

I will love you without your knowledge – quietly, secretly… and with all of my heart.

What Love Is

I can still hear that song in my head. It plays over and over again as if I was destined to be taunted by the idea of you. It is starting to drive me insane – my heart is so caught up in the music that so deftly describes you. My feelings for you are tugged at with every ensuing note and I am reminded of just how badly I have fallen for you. I wish only for the music to stop playing and for the feelings to fade.

Once again, I am experiencing a love that is oh so beautifully unrequited. I know for certain that nothing will ever change that in regards to our relationship. We are condemned to be friends yet I feel nothing but blessed by the honour. I only wish not to frighten you with my feelings. I know them to be worth fearing because here I am, controlled by the fear of that which I feel for you. I am ripped apart inside by the thoughts that envelop my mind… for I know that that is where they are destined to stay instead of being acted upon.

You would never see me like that. You are too good for that – too good for me. You are attracted to all the perfection that I am not and will never be. Although it is hardly of any surprise that I am completely enthralled by all that you are, the same cannot be said for your view of me. I don’t know what you think of me exactly, only that you are too much of a gentleman to ever say it out loud. You would never disgrace me which proves to be so honourable and inconveniently attractive of you. It is such a pity that I know exactly what and who I need to be in order to be wanted by you yet I have no means of ever being that person in any regard. In short, I am not good enough. I have understood this to be true for a while because it is glaringly obvious and I would be grossly oblivious or simply stupid to not have recognised this somewhat unfortunate circumstance I am faced with. You are so lovely. I wish that I could be someone worthy of you.

The opportunity to be your friend however – should that be all I am ever afforded – is sufficient. Although it hurts to feel more for you, your friendship is more than I could ever deserve. I would gladly endure the pain so as to enjoy something as genuine as your company. It is clear that I think very highly of you… I don’t see a reason as why not to. I know you are not perfect yet your imperfections are instrumental in what has caused me to adore you. I see passion and determination where anger burns in your eyes and rages from your lips. I see an irresistible cuteness in your occasional awkwardness. I see an opportunity for growth where you are weak. I see the humility that causes your insecurity. I see the unintentional wisdom you possess through your apprehension. I see the beauty of your soul where you cannot see it for yourself. I see the justification of a God because your existence, your creation can only be of a divine origin. You see… that is what love is. 

The scars I will live with – marked across my heart as a result of a love unreturned – they are only a small price I would be glad to pay. I only hope that I become stronger so that it may become easier to look into your eyes without getting lost in the prospect of the soul that sits within them. Perhaps then it will be easier to hug you without the fear of having to eventually let go. Perhaps then I will be able to laugh instead of cry, smile instead of frown… perhaps I will finally learn to be happy. I can only hope to learn of acceptance of the reality that we will never be anything more than friends.

I wish only to love you without feeling any pain – so that an unrequited love would hardly hurt me. I await the end of the song – the song that ushers in the thought of you and with it all the reminders of the emotions you stir within me. I wait to rejoice in your happiness in the event that you come to fall in love with someone for that would be the most selfless action I could perform. For you I would be selfless – always and without question or hesitation.

For that, my dear friend, is what love is.

A Moment in My Mind

Modesty seems to consume you. It's a good thing to be consumed by but to me, you're anything but ordinary.

Something about you makes me think that you are so infinitely amazing. You're amazing. You're not perfect and you shouldn't try to be...because I find your grumpiness adorable, your sarcasm is ingenious and your relentless teasing - I love it. Please don't ever change... You're just too wonderful... And I think I'm falling in love with the idea of you...

--J.

The Performance of a Lifetime

She's acting; she knows what you like. She knows what you want. She knows she's not right for you... So she'll act like she is - because she's in love with you. 

Perhaps she'll realise that her persona will crack and eventually he'll see the real her... She'll no longer be the one he wants. She'll be too in love to let go - that's the way it always is. She'll get hurt when he leaves but she'll never be able to blame him for not understanding. She was the one acting while he was being real.

It doesn't matter that his version of 'real' meant being cruel. Nobody could ever blame him for being himself... She was the one who decided to be loved for what she was not... so how can be blame him for hating who she really is? She, however, fell in love with the real him... And she's still in love with him. She has no reason not to be - he hasn't changed. Yet now he will hurt her by running away... by shutting the proverbial door in her face.

Even in the face of pain, she won't let go of her feelings because she's a girl that has never been good at goodbyes, that has never had a knack for letting go and has never dealt well with rejection - thus the cause for her acting in the first place. 

She has no choice but to watch him leave... seeing as she cannot do anything within her power to make him stay. She can't take her eyes off of him. She will watch him walk away until she can no longer see him and even then, he will haunt her mind for an eternity... Because it was the performance of a lifetime.

She made him fall in love. She took a part of him. She is and always will be somewhat a part of him. They're both broken in some way. They've both been forced to walk away...

Because she was acting.

--J.

Let Me Have A Moment

I wonder if you'd let me, I wonder if you'd allow... No. It's too much for me too ask of you. It's too much. Yet, I wonder if maybe... just maybe you'd let me, just maybe you'd humour me.

I just want to hold your hand for a little while. Staring into your eyes as you played with my fingers, your thumb stroking the centre of my palm. Hold me close for a little while so that I could feel, for a moment, infinitely safe behind the wall of your body. Pull me in and don't let go until the tears stop running down my face. Protect me for a fleeting instance, kiss my scars so that my skin may be healed and innocent again. Then move your lips to mine... and kiss me just one time. 

And then once more... 
And then again. 
And again. 
And never stop.

Not until this moment is over... I hope it'll never be over.

I wonder if you'd let me have this moment.

--J.

Electric Blue

I looked down at my quivering fingers and inhaled sharply as pained sobs racked my chest. The electric blue nail polish blurred beneath the tears that were welling up in my eyes. 

It takes a lot to finally come to terms with the fact that you are messed up. Sitting alone in a park, crying as though no one would ever have seen me... Reaching into my bag nervously for a cigarette that I had never intended to smoke.

I remember few things... I remember being somewhat dizzy and randomly sobbing and clutching my head occasionally between drags as I drifted from the swings to a bench and then to the foot of the brightly painted slide. I remember taking in the sheer feeling of futility and how raw I felt in those moments as the gentle jets of light grey drifted out of my mouth and nose. I felt stupid and alone... I felt empty and cold despite the slight warmth bubbling in my chest.

The smell of smoke lingering around you as though it meant to echo how I was feeling on the inside - trapped.


--J.

Damn The Nice Guy

You're such a nice guy. "He's so sweet" they all said. I suppose they were right... Because you're a real sweetheart. Yet, you're a real nightmare at the same time.

I've never been quite so privileged as to be played so quickly or skilfully - I commend you on an incredible achievement. Looking back, I must say that I was very stupid to be so trusting... but then again, that's always been my problem. You and your psychoanalytical ways somehow managed to exploit that though.

I thought maybe you would be the type of guy that wouldn't be tempted to hurt me. It turns out that you had the nerve to pull a move on me that managed to break me in record time. You've known me for just under a month and yet here you are - a champion in my downfall. Perhaps it was just your luck that I'm vulnerable right now because I'm not in a place that is entirely safe to me yet and I'm missing home and I'm missing true, fully-fledged friends. You gave me one of the first real conversations that I've had since I've been at university. So maybe that's what hurt more and helped the pain to become established - the fact that you gave me a glimpse of something real and then took it from me within a matter of hours and at the same time, you managed to show me just how much I left behind.

Even in the face of this fresh betrayal, I still want to speak to you. I still want to talk about things that go deeper than 'nice weather today' or 'let's go clubbing tonight'. You seem to be the only person except my room mate and a friend from high school that I have been able to have a deeper-level conversation with. SIGH. I know how much you hate it when I sigh... particularly because I do it all the time... And because I actually say the word 'sigh' when I sigh. SIGH. I wish you weren't such an asshole... Because I miss you and it sucks so much because I just want to be genuinely and wholly furious at you... I deserve to be. 

You made yourself out to be a guy that is somewhat honourable... Yet it turns out that you're quite the player and you clearly don't mind leading girls on and then letting them down harshly. I'm still in shock actually... I don't understand how you can be okay with what you did. Especially since you claim to know how I felt or feel (I don't know!). Jeez... this is terrible.

You used and abused me. Was I seriously just something to look at until you could get your hands on what you really wanted?? An interim? Seriously?! I'm angry and I'm hurt beyond anything I ever thought I'd feel in regards to you. 

I thought it was a gentle let down at first until my room mate came running into our room and told me you were here... to see someone else. I felt the blood drain from my face. And now there are new scars... That's how crap you made me feel. I suppose it's not fair to blame you quite for that because it was my choice to relapse into cutting again but hey... you definitely helped the cause. 

Just as it turns out, I see you leaving. The Walk Of Shame. And you looked at me... There was ice in your eyes as you breathed a crushing Hello. Somehow, among the crowd of people who didn't notice... You noticed the scars on my right side, just beneath the curve of my waist. You asked me what happened and in a panicked rush, I mumbled,"Shit happens." Before you could really reply, we were swept back into the company. I still don't know why and how you of all people saw it. Why were looking at my body? Why?? After you had just been with another girl? After we had been together. I know it's not a serious offence because it's not like we're together or even really involved at all but still... You knew how I felt, or might have felt... Why did you do that? Why did you show up knowing that I'd see you with her or hear about it? Did you want to hurt me? Did I do something to make you want to hurt me? 

Why did you send me over an edge? I relapsed thanks to your final contribution. I was doing so well... Sigh. Here I am now, facing the flack for the choices I've now made and what I've done - my own blood on my hands. I'm forced into offering explanations when I, myself, don't even understand. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. I can't keep doing this... I just can't. Why couldn't you be the nice guy you were in those first few moments? And why couldn't I see last night's occurrences coming from your damn stupid 'warning'?? 

WHY.

--J.