fuck my life.
It's the worst feeling in the world when you realize you're not as over someone as you thought you were.
And maybe I'm not quite over him because he was my first, well... everything. Kiss... love... everything. It does suck, though, because he never felt an ounce of what I felt for him. I know he liked me, sure. I know he thought I was the--and I quote--"nicest girl in the world" and that I made him want to be a better person. But what he felt for me? Nowhere near what I felt for him.
So, when I realized I was over him--that I'd somehow gotten him out of my system--I felt free and managed to feel actual butterflies swooping erratically in my belly for someone who's name wasn't... well, his. I started dreaming of someone new.
That made me happy and I felt normal. What girl doesn't get over the first guy who breaks their heart, right? (Masochists, clearly. But not normal girls.) And I mean, it SUCKS that he--the second boy I loved--also broke my heart, but that was more bearable because I had something else to blame it on, so I didn't feel nearly as pathetic as when he broke it. When he broke it. One clean, swift break; numbing. It wasn't until Sam asked if I was "all right" that the pain started. Oh... that terrible, terrible pain in my chest that made it hard to breathe. That made me wish I was anyone else but me.
And maybe I'm not quite over him because he was my first, well... everything. Kiss... love... everything. It does suck, though, because he never felt an ounce of what I felt for him. I know he liked me, sure. I know he thought I was the--and I quote--"nicest girl in the world" and that I made him want to be a better person. But what he felt for me? Nowhere near what I felt for him.
So, when I realized I was over him--that I'd somehow gotten him out of my system--I felt free and managed to feel actual butterflies swooping erratically in my belly for someone who's name wasn't... well, his. I started dreaming of someone new.
That made me happy and I felt normal. What girl doesn't get over the first guy who breaks their heart, right? (Masochists, clearly. But not normal girls.) And I mean, it SUCKS that he--the second boy I loved--also broke my heart, but that was more bearable because I had something else to blame it on, so I didn't feel nearly as pathetic as when he broke it. When he broke it. One clean, swift break; numbing. It wasn't until Sam asked if I was "all right" that the pain started. Oh... that terrible, terrible pain in my chest that made it hard to breathe. That made me wish I was anyone else but me.
Gah. I'm pathetic!
The second time my heart broke, I knew what to expect so I promptly gave myself three full days of mourning. Did it work? No, but I felt as though I had purpose and control. Discipline.
But this entire week has been dedicated to him.
And it's not fair. I don't even know when or how or why these thoughtsfeelings resurfaced. I saw one of his look-alikes last month. But that was ages ago. And seeing the look-alike did nothing for me. No butterflies. No chills. So why does he insist on pervading my thoughts NOW?
I hate it. I hate how unsure I feel. Am I still in love? Will I ever get over him? I wonder how he's doing. Oh, please be okay...
But this entire week has been dedicated to him.
And it's not fair. I don't even know when or how or why these thoughts
I hate it. I hate how unsure I feel. Am I still in love? Will I ever get over him? I wonder how he's doing. Oh, please be okay...
I hate him, to be honest.
Still.
Wherever you are, dillhole-moron-who-shattered-my-heart-into-a-million-pieces-and-made-it-so-so-so-hard-for-me-to-notice-other-guys-and-is-probably-to-blame-for-my-cynical-approach-to-love, I hope you're doing well. I hope you're safe and that you did something with the brains you were given. 'Cause I know you said you were dumb. I know you always teased me and my "keener" ways, but you didn't do terribly in any subjects. You were just too caught up in what Ryan and Mike and everyone else was doing to care about improving your grades. And I get it. We were little. Maybe not physically, but definitely intellectually. So yeah. I hope you went to college and are working somewhere where the employees all have "spinny chairs". I know you always wanted one of those.
It's silly to think of you, but I do. Not nearly as often as I did in high school or college (thank God), but I do. And, luckily, my thoughts of you aren't romantic. Anymore. It's just disconcerting that I'll probably always carry you in my heart in some way.
Fucking perfect, right?
You probably never ever wonder what's up with me, but I'm still reminded of you every so often.
It just sucks because my pride hurts. I feel really insignificant and that is a terrible feeling.
Still.
Wherever you are, dillhole-moron-who-shattered-my-heart-into-a-million-pieces-and-made-it-so-so-so-hard-for-me-to-notice-other-guys-and-is-probably-to-blame-for-my-cynical-approach-to-love, I hope you're doing well. I hope you're safe and that you did something with the brains you were given. 'Cause I know you said you were dumb. I know you always teased me and my "keener" ways, but you didn't do terribly in any subjects. You were just too caught up in what Ryan and Mike and everyone else was doing to care about improving your grades. And I get it. We were little. Maybe not physically, but definitely intellectually. So yeah. I hope you went to college and are working somewhere where the employees all have "spinny chairs". I know you always wanted one of those.
It's silly to think of you, but I do. Not nearly as often as I did in high school or college (thank God), but I do. And, luckily, my thoughts of you aren't romantic. Anymore. It's just disconcerting that I'll probably always carry you in my heart in some way.
Fucking perfect, right?
You probably never ever wonder what's up with me, but I'm still reminded of you every so often.
It just sucks because my pride hurts. I feel really insignificant and that is a terrible feeling.
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