When I first met you, I felt a kind of contradiction in you. You’re seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you’re worth.
I become attached to people I shouldn’t. I distance myself from the people who matter. I am bad with people. I am good at being alone. But I hate being lonely.
Can I call you? I miss the sound of your voice.
I’ve come to realize that depression is a lot like drowning. the more you try to save yourself, the more tired you become and eventually you run out of strength and you can’t try anymore and at that point it has already choked the life out of you.
But that’s how life is. You never know how it’s going to turn out, and you can’t plan for everything. You just have to do your best dealing with things as they come and hope people forgive you when you make a mistake.
I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.
Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.
But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.
And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.
We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.
We never know when the bus is coming.
It’s kind of a funny story
I met a girl
And we started talking
And if you know me, you know
That I immediately, without question
Fell in love with her
Even though I told them I’d never do that again
And it was this kind of talking, the deep passionate kind
The ones you see in those corny romantic movies
The ones I watch when I’m alone at night
And everything was going so swell, or at least that’s what I thought
She tasted like alcohol and mistakes.
i just feel like shit right now and wish i had someone to talk to to maybe get my mind off feeling shitty
She knocked me out. I mean it. I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can.
If I have written about you, for good or for bad, the fact is, I have loved you.