I went to an all girls secondary school, I remember my mother telling my primary school teacher that there would be no boys to distract me there. That it was better and it's true that there where no boys, well no cis boys. But there where men. Men who walked up the stairs too slowly behind when you wore a skirt, men that leaned over you to correct math mistakes that didn't exist, men that made girls loudly spell out why when they needed to use the bathroom. Men that shouldn't have been anywhere near a school. There wasn't many boys to distract us, but there where men that betrayed us.
It's bonfire night. Remember remember the fifth of November. Remember a failed Act of rebellion: I remember my only act of purposeful destruction, of physical rebellion. I was 12 or 13 and you had let him back in the house again, you invited him in with a smile and avoided my eyes. So I threw a vase down the stairs, I wanted your attention, I wanted you to see that shattered vase and realise I was breaking apart. I didn't break it out of anger, I broke it in despair and desperation. I thought if I break this you'll wake up, you'll believe me. But you mocked it and laughed with him instead. Maybe you where so broken at that point, so broken that shards of porcelain and glass only looked like soft disagreement. Maybe you needed him to fill your cracks with his sharp edges.
A lot of the time I don't feel like I've matured past 16. I still feel just as scared and even more lonely. They say your twenties are when you'll feel more steady, but I feel like I'm being swung into space and there I float suffocating in the void.
I was seven, but I didn't remember it until I was 13. It was almost a blessing that my mind hid it from me, it would have weighed my small spirit down before it had the chance to bloom. He visited throughout those 6 years and I would laugh at his silly jokes. I thought he was funny. Now not so much, the memory has tainted all the others. It has reset the tone of every interaction. It came back to me in the kitchen, we where both sat at the table and my mother was fiddling with pots and pans by the sink. I don't remember what we where talking about but I do remember the suddenness of remembering being seven with you in my room. I had never tried to picture what people meant when they said your life flashes before your eyes when you're dying. I felt like I was dying, a part me came clawing out of its hiding place and ripped me anew. My life didn't flash before my eyes but you did. One minute you where safe and funny, a blink later you were dangerous and slimy. I wanted you off my skin, but you had been clinging to me for 6 years and I didn't know where to begin. One thing I knew for sure is I had remembered. And you thought I hadn't.
I don't let myself look up what my school friends are doing now, I'm afraid. Afraid I'll find pictures of a something I missed. I remember us at 11 crowded around a school library computer, you both looked up your favourite wedding dresses most of them mermaid and lacy white, you picked out our bridesmaids dresses and talked about how we would find a colour that at least looked good on us all; I thought powdered blue. I miss being that young, when the only worries where our homework and hoping we where first out for lunch. Maybe you did get married, maybe if I log in to my socials I'll find an invite. Or maybe time has changed too much, we aren't eleven anymore. I wonder if you picked powdered blue or a mermaid dress in lacy white, I wonder if something remains the same.
I thought I knew what love was. Love was sitting in my health class sophomore year. Love wouldn't date me until one of us could drive a car. Love played lacrosse and was a goalie, we bonded over that. Then college came 2 years later, and love left as quickly as it came. Love became constant fights about pointless things. Love became jealous and controlling. Love ended at roughly 11:30 pm on a Tuesday night. Turns out I didn't know what love was. A month later, love's ugly cousin loneliness came in disguised as love. Loneliness was a scrawny blonde who tried to be "country". Loneliness couldn't play sports, but I was okay with that as long as I wasn't alone. Loneliness became an on and off relationship that I couldn't let go of because it had love's fond embrace. I used loneliness as an excuse to date. Loneliness left on Mother's Day around 11:30 AM, and I went to the store because I didn't know why I was so sad that loneliness, the one I had been begging myself to leave, was gone. Turns out, love also went to the store that day. Love had also just gotten out of a long term relationship. Love had texted me a few days prior to make fun of me because that was what love had done when we were friends in the past. This love was different than the love that sat in sophomore year health class. This love was sporadic 45 minute conversations in the most random places. This love popped up when I needed it the most at any point in my life. This love accepted me for who I am. Love has a fast car, and a motorcycle. Love knows I like to play with my hair. Love knows I don't get out much, but love is ok with that because he brings me to the most beautiful places. But between you and me, I don't care where this love takes me, because, I know what love is, and he treats me the right way and has the most beautiful hazel eyes and the cutest dimples I've ever seen. I know what love is because he sleeps next to me (almost) every night. I know what love is and he is the most authentic man I have ever met.
Love is in my thoughts
Love isn’t a lie. It’s something that can mask just how unhappy you really are while saying you are the happiest you’ve ever been.
After I broke up with him
If you ever wonder how much I love you, remember that I started to cry when we talked about what would happened if we lost each other to death or someone else. And you walked out to your car, you had to hug me close and wipe away my tears, because you brought up how you’d play our stuffed dog until it broke because it said ‘I love you’ in both of our voices.
That’s how much I love you
Do you regret the late nights out? The ache in your chest that you can’t place anymore but know is there from the constant nagging at that one hour of the day? Do you remember the day that they left clearly? Or does the warm escape of the whisky whisk you away? Is it all a faint memory? Or is it like a car wreck? Something you won’t ever forget?
Did you love her or the idea of loving her?
They say you can get lost in someone’s eyes, but I look into yours and I can find my way out. You must have sold your soul to the devil because your eyes don’t shine so bright and the ocean they should be is just a pond. And that woman you’re sleeping with doesn’t have a name. That cigarette was just a way to forget. And those eyes still show what could’ve been.
Those aren’t your blue eyes
I’m scarred that one day you’ll wake up and not love me anymore.
When we get distant.
The shower is the only place I don’t crave your touch. The warmth of the water is the only thing that reminds me of your body on mine.
I miss you
I love how we lay together in bed. How we end up tangled together, hands folded together almost like we'd fear getting separated. The feeling of your chest rising and falling comforts me more than words can describe. The feeling of your breath on my cheek, neck, or where ever your face may be at 3 am makes me relaxed knowing that you are still with me. I love waking up to see your beautiful face, and I love seeing your beautiful face watching me upon waking up.
My love is for the beauty of us
You told me that you see me in your future. I can say the same thing. But the truth is, even with all this certainty in the air between us, I can't help but be scared that someone could tear us apart. And what the future was supposed to be won't be anymore.
I will always see you
Sitting in complete silence with you isn't awkward anymore. In fact, it brings me great joy in knowing that just my presence is enough for you. And that we don't need to do anything of extravagance is a comfort of its very own.
While you slept with your dog
I look at you and can't help but fall in love with you all over again.
I'm yours now and forever
Our late night conversations show me who you really are. You aren't just the tough boy that I've come to love, you are a hopeless romantic deep down. And when it's 2 am and we both can't sleep we show each other just how much we truly love each other.
I think I'm in love
You make waking up something to be excited about. Because waking up means I get to see you again.
My reason to live #1
My worst nightmare is waking up to you not next to me. That you will fall out of love. That all of the little things I do will start to annoy you. My worst nightmare is being there when you kiss another girl. That everything about us was a lie. My worst nightmare is watching you walk out on what we had.
Losing you is my biggest fear
I feel the safest when I'm wrapped up in your arms. The comedy show is just a background noise to the sound of your heart beat as I lay my head on your chest. Your arms feel so strong and your breaths remind that this is real. That I am here and you are with me, and that you are the one who makes me feel safe.
I spent the whole day with you
A sleepless night isn't as bad as it could be when I am talking with you.
2 am Thoughts
I thought you weren't coming back, so I gave up hoping you would. I gave up because someone like me doesn't just become friends with someone like you. Someone of your caliber would go to someone much more deserving and not already gone.
Inside the Artist #6
I don't know what happened for fate, or destiny, or maybe just sheer coincidence, to push us together, but I have a feeling that whatever happens from here will only strengthen the nonexistent bond that we have yet to form.
Inside the Artist #4
Maybe it was just the lighting with the trees and the half hidden sun, but I swear, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. And you wanted to sit next to me. Unbelievable.
Inside the Artist #3
I want to see the world through your eyes. I want to know what it is like to be unnoticed, to know how the wind can feel without running through it. I want to see how you see me, not as what everyone wants me to be, but just as I am. Just as me.
Inside the Artist #2
How can you think I’m the most beautiful creature you've ever seen? I still can’t look myself in the eye in front of the mirror.
I’m starting to believe you
If you’re just a dream then I don’t want to wake up.
This can’t be a nightmare
I thought I'd be fine when you decided to leave. But here I am in a puddle of my own tears and trying to figure out to turn off these damned things called emotions.
2 AM Thoughts
I hate myself because no one has ever cared enough to teach me why I should love it.
Then I met you