Saturday, 18 October 2008
02:40:20 AM (GMT)
It's been a while, has it not?
But what is time to those that have fallen in love?
A simple word that does not define them or their relationship what-so-ever.
Yes, I've fallen and can't seemed to find the way back to my feet for a boy at my
Michael, his name is.
Michael, the boy I met just two weeks ago(October 5th) and yet can't seem to push the
image of him out of my wondering mind.
Wondering what has possibly come over me that I'd think so fondly of a person I'd
There was no answer for me at first.
Just long nights staring at the dark ceiling, seeing his smiling face in the back of
my mind. Uneventful days thinking of how I'd greet him again, and weeks of
irritation, confusion, and denial.
Avoiding anything that would make the day seem longer, the faster the day I'd see him
again came the better.
Looking around, trying to find something that could hopefully not engrave his image
into my mind and failing miserably.
It was just infatuation.
That's how the first week went.
The second was much different.
That Sunday, the day I panicked.
The day I thought he hadn't come to church.
The day I'd almost broke down in public.
I watched, looked around, almost searched for him.
He wasn't around.
I looked for him in the crowd of the church during the sermon that I was supposed to
be listening to in case of a test afterward from the preacher--which I failed, by the
It wasn't until two long hours that I finally saw him in the fellowship hall after
He was as beautiful as I'd remembered.
Even more breath taking now that I thought I'd lost him.
Yes, lost him.
Even if for just another week.
Another tortuous week of not having him by my side.
After that day I realized that what I felt for him wasn't normal.
Well, it was normal, just unusual for me.
It was just love.
That was the second week.
Still just as painful with not having him by my side but slightly more enjoyable
since I accepted my love for him.
I've written thousands of love notes to and about him that I'm reluctant to actually
give to him.
Even though the week was slightly less tortuous, I still twisted in my sleep-now that
I got some- and woke up thinking about him.
I wondered if it were possible that he'd be thinking this much about me.
It brought a smile to my face when I thought it could be.
But a crushed, heartbroken frown when I thought otherwise.
Why would he think of me as much as I thought of him?
Why was I thinking of him so much, anyway?
Oh yeah, I forgot.
I'm in love with him.
Who knew love could be so annoying?
I know I didn't.
Otherwise I would've avoided Michael all together.
...That was a lie. I probably wouldn't have.
I probably wouldn't care if I'd have to go through sleepless nights, agonizing days,
and the longest hours of my life as long as I knew I'd be able to see him again after
Does that sound stupid?
Yeah, I agree. It does.
But it's true.
So what is time?
It's something that slows down when Michael leaves with his parents.
It's also something that seems to stop when he speaks.
Speaks to me.
And only me.
Sickeningly in love,
That's Just the Way it is, Huh?
It's not the fact that every time I hear your name, let alone see your face, my
heart flutters into a space that was unknown to me before. A world that is
unfamiliar to me, a wonderland of pleasure and delight that only one that has been
touched by an angel can even imagine. It's the way that you fail to notice.
Fail to see my two wondering eyes watching your every move, sparkling and looking
away each time you glance in my direction. Failing to see how my face darkens
to a deep crimson every time you speak. Failing to acknowledge the fact that I
can't breath until you step away from me.
It's not the fact that every time you're in the room, I fail to keep my uncaring
facade upon my face. Nor is it the fact that when I talk to you, I can't come
up with witty replies but I slur and jumble my words together. It's not the
fact that every time you're around, I can't control what I say or how I feel.
Blushing uncontrollably, babbling like an idiot, batting my eyes every
five seconds, rubbing my arms to calm myself.
No, it's the why that you don't know, the way you fail to realize, the way you
don't even notice the fact that I'm truly, madly,
unswervingly, undeniably, undoubtedly, completely, and
utterly in love with you.
How do I Know?
How do you know you're in love?
Is there some kind of pulse that shoots through your veins, making to feel
And how do you fall in love, anyway?
How do you honestly look at someone and decided that you're in love? I, like many
others before me, didn't get that choice.
I saw him and that pulse ran it's coarse though me, shooting out of my rapidly
beating heart, running scorchingly through my entire body, and back to my heart that
had suddenly stopped beating.
It felt like I had died for the slightest second and came back to life.
Living, breathing, walking, speaking for a whole new
purpose, not for myself, not for my friends or my family but for him.
I was floating, doomed to drift forever in the loneliness of my life with
nothing and no one but myself. I was hovering, levitating over the world for what
seemed like an eternity but him, he was the god-given chain the held me to
The rope that kept me from drifting away and apart from myself and the world that
I used to know.
He was the reason for me, and I was nothing without him.
He was my air, my food, my water, my heartbeat,
my life and my love. Without him, I am but another lost
soul doomed to float into the darkness of my hell; A bright world filled with
people I knew, a life that I recognized so well apart from the one I was
living around him.
A hell where my family and my friends were beside me, smiling and
beckoning for me to stay with them forever.
Yes, that world, the world I'd known my whole life, is my hell
because even if the world spun itself just for my liking, it would bring me to
bitter tears if he were not by my side.
So, how do you know you're truly in love?
Honestly, I don't care.
As long as I'm with him.
Before you, I was a girl that couldn't care less.
I didn't care that my hair would fall in tangled coils that seemed to shoot
out in every direction.
I didn't care that my makeup was smudged over my eyes and cheeks.
I didn't care if my clothes didn't match or if they were too baggy for pubic.
I didn't care about life or how I, or anyone else lived it.
But now, with you in my live, --even if in the littlest bit of it-- I brush
my hair every morning and every night, I update on my look every hour just to
convince myself that I'm worth your time and that I have even the slightest chance to
talk with you.
Every day that I know you're going to be around, that is the greatest day of
That is the day that I stop to smell the sweet scent of the roses on the corner, look
up to count the clouds in the sky, greet every person on the street with a
welcoming smile, and actually understand all
those songs on the radio.
It's the day that I breathe every breath in hope of being able to waste those breaths
But, when you're not around, I am alone. With my friends and family beside me,
I am alone without you.
When you're with me, I breathe, I live, I laugh, and I
I am myself and loving every minute of it.
But when the day is over and I'm forced to go home and leave you, I am dead inside.
I sit in my room, thinking about you, feeling my rotting heart beat slowly, longing
I no longer feel the need to take a breath --I'll hold it, waiting for
I can't think of a reason to live --except for the day I see you
Nothing is funny to me --until I think of that goofy smile you gave me the
and I love nothing and no one --but you.--
With out you, I am but a broken, shattered, less important
version of myself.
I'm not me without you. When you're gone, I lose
And I can't seem to find myself again until you return.
But, if that's true, who was I before?
Well, I guess it doesn't really matter now, does it?
I love you, Michael.
I always will.
Last edited: 18 October 2008