Quotes {3}

I was predestined to be an unsolvable problem.


 All day, all night, my fear, my fright

Was all that I could see.

But you stepped in, and helped me live

To reach who I could be.


I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve relapsed from your love.


Everyone loves her but I just want to hit her.


Sometimes I wish that I was classy, but it usually goes away after a few swigs out of the bottle.


She was a wasted thought on his mind. Filled with potential, but devoid of results.


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Owing Something

Owing Something

You feel bad for pushing him away when you were busy. Just because he gave you that look, right there in his eye. It makes you feel like you owe something to him. And do you really? It’s hard to tell. Do you owe him the stares you are always burning into his back, with the muscles and bones obvious in the way he sits, shirtless?

He is your inspiration. In fact, he is what is inspiring me to write this. I cannot help it. Like I said, just look at him and you’ll understand. If you’re still reading this you should already understand without me having to tell you to.

Oh those eyes, those eyes. They are green, a light olive, like the colour few have but yet so many do. He is trying to communicate with you through them but you are too busy, too inspired. And it is his entire fault yet he doesn’t comprehend this. He thinks you can just stop when you wish, because he wishes. He wants your attention, the greedy pig. But you can’t give it to him. Not yet. You’re not done.

He’s too impatient. Those like him always are though. They lounge around on the couch, waiting patiently for you to enter the room while you fix yourself up for the presence of others. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t say it but you know he’s thinking it questioningly in his head. Why is she dressing up? I love her the way she is.

But others don’t.

Others only like the made-up girl who actually took time to work on her appearance today. Or at least it seems so; isn’t that the only time you get compliments? They are certainly never about your self-proclaimed sparkling personality.

He has natural beauty. He is so handsome. You know if he had it in him, he’d say you are too.

He is a ginger, this one. There’s something appealing about the mop he has. The colours, natural highlights, of remarkable hues we rarely stop and appreciate because instead we find them so rare the beauty is unusual. But I like it. Red, orange, little wisps of black or brown hardly visible unless so close. In fact, he is so colourful he looks odd.

He will go with me wherever I go. Because you do everything together: you snuggle up on the couch, keeping each other warm, and watch a movie even if one of you doesn’t have enough patience or intelligence to follow what’s going on. He doesn’t care though, because he loves you and your company. You are everything to him; it’s not like he follows just anyone around. You’re pretty sure everyone else is jealous and upset by this but they understand; you love each other.

Sometimes he smells and you’ll wonder what he’s gotten up to. Maybe he was with another girl or in a dirty situation. Maybe he just spent too much time outside that day.

He is afraid of the strangest things and you find it cuter than those who are afraid of the norm: spiders, airplanes, or crossing the middle of the street. Though, of course, he will probably be fearful of these things too. But you’re more interested in how the popping of a balloon will make him jump, or how he can’t be in the same room as a vacuum cleaner being used.

You like how parts of him are softer than silk and much more comforting than it too. He is your teddy bear, even if he finds hugs awkward and you have to force him into them. He is vicious and intimidating though, and you know this even if it’s harder to believe. There is proof.

They are of a dying breed, redheads. But I hope he doesn’t die out. He will though. Doesn’t the thought make you cry? Come on, think of your ‘him’. You have one or you wouldn’t be reading this if you didn’t know what I’m writing about.

Do you really know what I’m talking about though? Did you realize, at all, that throughout this whole thing I was talking about my cat? What’s also eerie is how all that can apply to an animal. Just like you can have the same bond, the same friendship that is unspoken, with a cat that you do with the person you initially related this to.


 

Hi there, hope you made it all the way down here and liked what you read! Sorry for the delay in posts; I was working in the office for the past two weeks. This is my first post of longer content, the type of stuff that I’m mainly here to share.

I wrote this a couple of years ago and thought I’d share it. I’m curious; let me know how long it took you to figure out!

Every Day Battles

You think I don’t want to be over this? I do. I want to move on and stop whining and annoying everyone. I want to finally have closure and have my sanity back.

But there’s also this part of me I can’t manage to turn off. That part of me passionately believes we have this crazy, undeniable connection.

I used to be able to maintain the longing at a lower level, so that it was barely a hum in my every day noise, but he reawakened me. I remember how just his friendship lit me up, how high I could get off it. I can only imagine taking it to a deeper level would be magical. Something I would lose myself in, if I haven’t already.

At times what’s left of me takes a difficult breath, knowing what’s not there. I feel the loss of him and the future we could of had. I pathetically ache with the pain of it. I want it to be gone but I can’t let go of the ‘What If’.

What if he changes his mind, realizes the value of what we have, and I’m not there? Could I forgive myself for letting go?

Introvert

The introverted part of me could be in a room full of people and still want to be alone, having that night’s solo adventure.

I go to parties, very much looking forward to seeing people and chatting with them, and yet I always manage to find myself alone in the quiet at some point during the night. Be it on the empty strip of beach, a lonely rooftop, or in an abandoned room, I find it.

I always thought that was the attention-seeking part of me, wanting someone to come find me. That’s part of it, but there’s also my inner introvert saying it needs a break and wants a moment of separation to enjoy the sky, the air, or some silence.

When I Remember Us

I miss you.

Not the person that annoyed, frustrated or hurt me, the one I’ve gotten used to, but the other one.

I miss the guy who used to share his smiles with me, and his warmth as we lied together, his arm around me and his breath on my neck. I miss the laughs we had, during adventures only we shared. I miss our conversations about our favourite tv shows and teams, things in common I only shared with you.

When I remember us, I don’t understand why you don’t want to be together anymore.

Exposed & Uncomfortable

“What are you doing?” He shouts, uncomfortable with what he just saw.

“I was getting changed!” She responds, like this is perfectly reasonable. If that were true, she wouldn’t be half-hidden and crouched down behind a desk, he thinks.

He throws out his hands and questions, “In a room filled with windows?”

“It was dark!”

As if that justifies it.

“You could have locked the door!” He says, before he walks out and waits outside. He feels his cheek, which is now a bright shade of pink. That’s just like her. Keeping him on his toes, as usual.

Hope

“But I had so much hope.”

 

“Well honey, an hour ago I had a homemade piece of pecan pie, topped with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. As amazing as it was, it’s gone now.”