Something Infinitely Interesting

[I'd never post this if I wrote it. There are things better left unwritten here hahaha.]

 

 

             I am in love with you. I am up at 11:26pm contemplating on what possible meaning these feelings could have. These feelings that float back up like hot water in cold water doing the convention current thing it does. I miss you. Terribly. I am in dire need to see you. In psychology, a need is defined as an existing want. I want you. I want you so bad. I want you like how a dying person wants water in a desolate desert. Like how an LA girl living in Maine wants the sun. Like how everyone wants what they can’t have.

I can’t have you. I guess you’ve made it clear. I can’t shed any tears. I don’t have the right to. I deserve this. I’m just being a weak, inexperienced, desperate, masochistic romantic with no hope. Stories like mine are worth making into some soap opera or a song.

I will wait though. I will keep on waiting. By some twist of faith, I’ll wait for that momentous day when we could Be again. May it be the next life? So it’s come to this- to the point of reincarnation. So this is what they talk about- how love breaks all boundaries- if we think hard enough or rather, imagine hard enough.

How deceiving love is. It’s one big expectation to something so predictable. It makes one a slave of their own expectation of the world. In the end, we’re the cause of our own undoing. We had succumbed to the temptation of what Love has to offer. The comfort, the attention, and the darn sweet things are all bait! So bittersweet. What are we but pawns?

            Skepticism will do nothing but just prolong my pain. I can’t help it at all. I’ve grown up seeing not a single act of love from my parents to each other. My grandpa, God bless his soul, passed away when I was just a kid so I’ve never even seen the love between them manifest itself. Maybe I was just too young to remember. Either way, I can’t use my family as a reason for my failed love life. That would deter my capability of changing the course of my life.

            I’m not going to pretend that I don’t want love or I hate it or anything. Like I said, I’m a weak, inexperienced, desperate, masochistic romantic with no hope. I want it. I want it so bad but I don’t want to end up a fool.

            Cross my heart, I want things to go back to third year. To that party. To that space in between two cars outside where I doomed myself. Where I lost you. Where I became the fool without even lifting a finger.

            I love you. I can’t believe I’m writing this down but I love you. I never thought of saying those three words ever in my life. I never thought to have the reason to say it but now there’s you. I love you. I’ve loved you since we parted.

            You never know the worth of something until it’s gone.

            Come back to me please.