It’s not okay to mess with anyone’s feelings. It’s not okay to lead people on. It’s not okay to disappear without a reason or some sort of closure when you know it’s become way more serious than a simple friendship. It’s not only girls, & it’s not only guys that do it, one is just as guilty as the other.
Why do boys become such babies when they feel sick? Like nah, get up and make your own damn chicken noodle soup. You have legs, grab yourself a tissue. Uhm, I’ve had a stomach ache & it did not make me want to talk like a child. Get the fuck up and stop acting like a baby.
When my eyes are too heavy, I’ll close them, and try to think of things that’ll keep my mind awake. Six pillows, and a goose feathered comforter I haven’t gotten under. I’ll listen to your voice, and enjoy your fingertips run through my hair until my last yawn tells you goodnight.
Some of my favorite parts: The last kiss you sneak in before I walk out your door. Always being told goodnight. Our weirdness blends like sugar in coffee. You talk a lot while you cook. We call each other ugly. Playing with your hair while you watch TV or sleep. Trying to be my dogs best friend even though he doesn’t like you that much. Holding hands while napping. My family always takes you from me. Your eyes squint when you laugh or smile. The way you talk in an accent without noticing. Mutual respect for one another. Your butt.
I have been to church with Christopher before, but just once. He’s Christian and I’m Catholic so it was a lovely and different experience for me. A few minutes ago he tried to invite me again, and he was so nervous, ‘Uhm… do you think we can go to church again? I mean, I don’t want it to seem forced, but I think it would be nice and yeah… I’ve never invited someone to church before…’ It made me strangely happy and it even made me cry. I love bonding with him and especially this way, I just couldn’t be happier.
What I realize about myself is that, I’m not happy. I’m not happy with the outfit I picked out, I’m not happy about the weather but everything is fine, I swear that I am fine. I’m picky about what others should say and what they shouldn’t say and that, well that’s just something I can’t control. I throw happiness in the air, and if it hits the ground and shatters into a billion tiny pieces, at least I can say I had happiness once. Don’t look at me, don’t even breathe close to me, because I know you’ve had these days, too. I was happy yesterday, but today my bed decided to hold me an hour too long and now it’s vanished. My dog decided to bark out of tune, and someone rang the doorbell at the wrong time, and there’s nothing more I please than to enjoy these things, rather than to wish I could control them. To enjoy you, so you could enjoy me.
When people ask me, ‘Why do you put so much ice in your drink?’ I just want to look them dead in the eye and say, ‘I don’t put ice in my drink, I put the drink on my ice.’ Damn fools. I like it that way.
I woke up and the smell of your cologne ran up my noise only to make the edges of my mouth form a smile, whilst the odd thought of having the cinnamon candles lit this early ran through my mind, I blew them out. ‘Good morning, love.’ Our loft wasn’t the widest, but it was enough for our dog, and ourselves. You were already dressed in a dress shirt, and fixing your bow tie in the mirror. I don’t really know why when you know it takes me hours to get ready. ‘I have the shower ready for you.’ You had picked out my favorite skirt, and collared shirt that I didn’t care too much for, but wore anyway. You put the only heels that seemed to go with everything on me, and handed me a coat. You left me only enough time to put a light amount of make up on before we were out the door. Stumbling out into the hallway, and the rustling of keys in your pocket. ‘Are you ready?’
Chris: Did it hurt?
Me: Yeah, it did.
Chris: When you fell from heaven?
Me: That’s why my face is so fucked up.
Chris: Noooooooooooo! Jew can’t dew dat!
You put the water a little warmer than what you were used too just because I liked it that way. You lathered soap in my hair making sure not to get it in my eyes. I made sure to get the middle of your back, the place you said you couldn’t reach all too well. You handed me a towel and dried my hair. I’m getting too close to you and I’m not fighting it. I want this, and I think I need it. No, I do need it. We laid in bed, and spoke, of small things and the greatest of things. Just please, give this to me one more time.
I think when you tell someone, ‘You shouldn’t be sad, cheer up!’ it’s sort of like telling someone not to be human. I think we need to feel sadness, anger, and everything but happiness in order to know what happy is. So cry if you need, yell if you want, and be happy without the presence of lingering distraught.
I don’t understand why people take things to heart. If I say something in general it may or may not be true to you. If it isn’t, why fuss and what does it matter anyway? I’m a teenage girl, my opinion does not make the world go ‘round.
I try to ignore feelings as if they were things that could be ignored. I try to sit there and smile, paying close attention to his moving lips but my voice is all I hear. I can’t tune it out, and I can’t run from it, but I try anyway. Here’s a laugh perfectly inserted into the conversation I wasn’t paying attention to, here’s a nod to the question I think you just asked and here’s myself thinking that these feeling would disappear because you’re here now and it’s supposed to be okay.
I want sleepy talks. Eyelids closed but you know we won’t fall under. We’ll talk for hours on end, and the only silence will be the few seconds after the soft laughter. Just please, give that to me. If I find that you prefer the sleep, you’ll find me gone by morning.