• You said you didn’t want to hurt me?

    by  • February 13, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Heartbreak • 0 Comments

    I can’t stop thinking about you.
    Doesn’t matter when.
    Doesn’t matter where.
    Doesn’t matter what I’m doing, or who I’m with.
    I can’t pry your godammed face out of my mind.
    When I’m with other guys, I wish they were you.
    I compare every part of them to you
    and how you do it better.
    When other guys call me sexy, or hot, I feel sleazy until I remember how you could say those same things to me and make me feel beautiful.
    When other guys touch me, I pretend it’s you for a second before I move away from them.
    I miss the way you touch me.
    When I’m falling asleep at night and pull my blanket closer to my body because it’s cold, I wish that you were here instead to keep me warm.
    I somehow fit into that crevice right under your arm, lying on your chest.
    Kind of similar to how our heights were perfectly aligned so that I could kiss your bottom lip without having to stand on my tippy-toes
    just how I like it.
    Everyday I secretly hope that I’ll run into you somewhere, and when I don’t,
    I feel numb.
    And on the days that I do see you, even if it’s just for a second, I feel like
    electricity is jolting through my feet if I can catch your gaze.
    I have to catch it, because you look away real fast.
    And when you talk to me, my mouth becomes dry
    and my legs feel a little shaky and
    I try to fight it, but it happens anyway.
    I can’t stand to see you look disappointed, and I only want to see you smile.
    And laugh, especially if I’m the reason why you’re laughing.
    But when you’re angry, and I’m the reason you’re angry,
    I can’t
    Even though I apologized
    for something I don’t even understand,
    I apologized.
    And you were still angry.
    My insides are withering away, from the inside out.
    I’m actually eating away at myself.
    Ripping apart every few inches,
    trying to figure out
    what the fuck happened
    to make you look at me like that
    with those dead, glaring eyes.
    I hate disappointing you
    and I can’t even learn from this.
    When I talked to my mother and she asked me how I felt about you
    I started to say the “L” word
    but then choked.
    I couldn’t bring myself to say it
    because admitting that means
    admitting that I fell for you.
    And that scares me.
    It’s terrifying.
    but what’s even more terrifying is knowing that I had you,
    but now
    I don’t.
    And I don’t know why.
    I act tough around you because I can’t let you hurt me.
    I can’t make myself be vulnerable to you,
    because you might tell me you don’t feel the same way about me
    and what you think of me.
    And that would hurt.
    A lot.
    But you know what also hurts?
    This feeling.
    Right now, how I’m feeling this very second
    and I know it’s not just me.
    You’re hurting too.
    Every time you pretend to not see me.
    Every time you ignore me when I’m around other guys.
    You’re protecting yourself too.
    We’re both protecting ourselves
    from each other.
    You said you didn’t want to hurt me?
    I don’t want to hurt you either.
    But you won’t let me be your friend.
    But you won’t let me ignore you.
    What do you want from me?
    If you say you want nothing, I’ll know you’re lying.
    Your eyes harden a little bit when you’re not being completely honest with me.
    I can plainly see your barrier.
    Because you don’t want me to see the truth.
    Whatever the truth is.
    But guess what, I know you better than you know think I do,
    so I know you still have feelings for me.
    Which is why I ignore my friends when they tell me to move on.
    To get over you.
    I’ve tried but.
    I can’t.
    I don’t want to, yet,
    I’m proud of myself if I go for an entire span of time of not thinking about you.
    But then, suddenly,
    I always somehow come back to you.
    Something makes me want to fight for you.
    To love is to risk not being loved back.
    Fuck it, I guess I’m risking it then.
    Even if you don’t know I am.
    I have to try or else
    I’ll never know
    and I think that would hurt more
    wondering “what if?”
    I don’t want to be alone anymore.
    I don’t want other guys but
    I’m sick of coming home to my empty bed.
    I can’t do it anymore.
    I’ve saved myself, waiting so long for the right person to come along.
    And there you are.
    Right in front of me,
    I can touch you,
    if you wanted me to but
    I can’t find the courage reach you.
    It’s torture.
    I’m aching inside thinking about it.
    I feel so weak.
    It’s ironic because you make me feel so strong.
    You are medicine to my soul.
    You gave me a little taste of your love,
    look what it did.
    Can you blame me for wanting more?
    not more.
    I want all of it.
    All of you.
    All I want
    Is you.
    In return
    you can have all of me.
    a lot.
    I think it’s enough.

    It’s too bad you’ll never
    read this.

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