Wednesday, 23 November 2011
04:07:37 AM (GMT)
I want to cry. Because I put myself in these situations and it is my fault. So I
can't blame anyone but myself. I know you can't make anyone love you. You just can
never do that. I push on and on to make sure he knows I care and I'll be there for
Maybe I'm just not doing it right. Even as a friend I'll be there. I'm not sure what
it is anymore. When I have to say something, when I'm angry at him, I never know how
to express that without being afraid he'll just spazz and say fuck this and leave.
I know that if he did, it'd be something someone who wasn't worth the time would do.
But I still feel he's worth it, I still feel it. I wish I were better at this. I wish
I were afraid of nothing. I wish I had the strength.
I've got the strength to hurt myself and keep on doing it this way, but not this. I
can withstand the pain of loving someone who doesn't love me anymore. Watch them get
pushed to the side by people they thought mattered. I can watch him be rejected and
tell me about it later how he was left outside alone.
The feeling when you watch that person you love get hurt by people they wanna love.
The feeling when you listen to how their feeling, when they feel terrible and you
wanna be that one to hold them, but you know it's not your arms they wanna be in.
The feeling when they're happy, and ya wish you were the reason for the smile on
their face, but you're happy because they are. I wasn't there for that, I don't think
I could've dealt with that.
But especially the feeling when they kiss you again. When they touch you again. When
you get lost in eachother all over again!
You're both laying side by side and nothing's coming between you, this is the time
to speak up..but no, you don't, because that will ruin it all. You forget that you're
not together anymore. You forget that this is not something you can explain to
anyone. You forget that it's hurting you, and you stop thinking. You think you're
making love again, but to them, it's not love anymore.
You forget, until morning, they leave. He's gone, you are left with your tears. Until
next Friday, when it happens again.