the fourth of july

It was the Fourth of July. We hadn’t seen each other in a couple weeks. We were in your room laughing, talking, catching up. It was still weird to me- you and I. Six months later and I still wasn’t quite used to it.

I was new to this whole dating  thing, and what we had was so unlike what you see on T.V. A couple texts a week (sometimes), making out in your bed, movies, bowling, no commitment, and of course, all the other girls you were fucking. Honestly, though, it didn’t bother me. We both had feelings but not strong ones. And, if we’re being honest, my heart at the time was with someone else who was miles and miles away.

We were both happy with what we had; a friend to talk to when the days were hard and who we could kiss when we felt lonely. I knew I was a bit more attached than you, but nothing more than you having a special place in my heart being my first kiss, date, etc. You respected that I didn’t want sex and I respected that that meant you getting it somewhere else. We were good, we were cool.

Until the Fourth of July.

You were sitting at your desk while I laid across the end of your bed. We were talking, catching up, the same as any other night. Your job, my classes, your mom, my sister. The conversation was always so easy with us.

Finally, you put on a movie (another part of our normal routine) and joined me on the bed. Your arm was around my body as I curled up into your side. Your hand found its way up the back of my shirt to trace my skin and I almost laughed at the routineness of it. I already knew what was next- a compliment and then the kiss which would lead to a couple hours of making out and cuddling until it got too late and I had to go home.

The kiss came, gentle and slow and you rolled on top of me. I was still laughing at something you’d said but you kissed me nevertheless. Your shirt came off quicker than usual and your hand went down the back of my pants. It was just like normal. Until it wasn’t.

Suddenly my leggings were being tugged down to my thighs and your hand was where it had been only once before and you’d listened when I said to stop. I struggled to get them back up as you lifted me in your arms, and only when you opened the drawer of your dresser did I realize what you wanted from it. I pushed your hand away and struggled out of your arms.

You were polite. You were always polite. You kissed me again and led me back to your bed, showing me you were done trying, the bad part was over. Only it wasn’t.

You took off my clothes, telling me it was okay, that you weren’t going to do anything I didn’t want. When you told me to turn around I did because it never crossed my mind that you would break my trust. And then you were on top of me and inside of me and telling me it was okay, it wouldn’t hurt for long. I begged you to stop. “Please” became the only word I knew as the tears streamed down my burning cheeks.

Finally you stopped and turned me over, telling me to get in the bed so we could cuddle. You saw my tears and laughed. Not a minute later you were getting up, telling me to get dressed and you’d take me home. I had never been more relieved or more sad to leave you.

That was the first night you did that to me, and the only night you actually stopped before you wanted. Our routine changed. I now talked as much as I could trying to prolong the time before you would take me. When I cried you would hold me tighter to your chest but only move faster. And when we were done, we never cuddled anymore. And I kept going back. Because the more it happened the deeper in love with you I fell and the more distant you became.

And that’s it, there was no good ending. I don’t even know if you knew you were doing anything wrong, and you sure as hell never knew I fell in love with you. You owned me for that short time in every way there is to own a person and sometimes, when I find myself disgusted by what I see in the mirror and thinking no man would ever want me again, I think you still do. I don’t know how to get me back from you. I don’t know how to not love you.

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home

it’s not always in lovers you find your home

though I do believe it is always in people

 

a building

a place

it can provide some comfort

but never the warmth of a loved one’s touch

 

you were my home the moment I first saw you

we were young

naïve

innocent

free

 

you ran circles around me and I was getting dizzy

but I didn’t mind

no, I never minded when it came to you

 

you were the star of all my stories

the one who knew my darkest secrets

the one who held me when I cried

 

you were the friend everyone wanted

but few were lucky enough to find

and you told me it was me

that you were the lucky one

 

but I knew

everyone knew

you are my home

the next time around

Does this mean what I think it means?

Those were the first words out of your mouth after we first kissed. The kiss I’d been anticipating for ten years. The kiss I’d given up hope would ever happen.

So why did I hesitate?

Was it because somewhere deep down I’d always known we wouldn’t work? Because bad timing seems to be my best friend? Because no matter how much we wanted it to work we knew the distance wouldn’t let it? Or because we loved each other too much to let us give up our lives for the other.

I’m here and you’re there. It could be years until we’re back in the same place, if ever. I don’t want you to stop living for me like I know you would. I don’t want your life to become centered around a girl who you only see through the screen of your phone. I don’t want you to say “no” to things just so you can say “yes” to me.

We’ve loved each other this long. Maybe it won’t just be a phase. Maybe one day the timing will be right, or maybe it won’t and we’ll realize it’s just too hard to live without each other and we’ll find a way to make it work. Or maybe it won’t work. Maybe that night was the only night we’ll ever spend together. Maybe all we’ll ever be is a “could’ve been”, a nostalgic, fleeting memory when we’re forty and have long moved on and hear an old song we used to sing to together in the car.

So that’s why that night in bed when you asked “does this mean what I think it means?” I told you “yes, it does.”

But that’s also why the next morning when you had to leave I let you go. Why when you said, “I don’t want to hurt you,” I hid the truth behind a smile and said, “you’re not.” Why when you said, “I love you,” I hesitated to say it back.

We’ve got so much ahead of us, me and you. And maybe we’re just one of those things. And if we’re not then that’s okay. But there’s not going to be any more maybes, no more almost-sent texts or late-night cries. We’re going to live, we’re going to enjoy the life we’ve been given.

And if one day we’re given the chance to try again- just know, my love, I won’t hesitate the next time around.

via Daily Prompt: Hesitate

midnight thoughts 2.27.17

Well this is it. A kind of closing in a way, though I’m not quite sure if it is a good or a bad one. Good because, well, for one, like you said that night was fun and, second, because after nearly nine years of telling myself I need to get over you because someone like you could never feel the same about someone like me, I’ve seen that maybe, just maybe, it could be possible. But, bad because, like you said, that night was fun. “Fun” seems such a tenuous word to describe the monsoon of emotions still coursing through my being even a week later.  I’ve always been the girl people saw as a cynical romantic. Little did they know I’ve been in love with my best friend since the moment I first laid eyes on him nine years ago. Embarrassment, and the belief that you could never see me in “that way” or as more than a kid sister kept me from telling anyone and I convinced myself that if no one knew I could get over you more quickly and pretend it had never happened. But as the days, weeks, months and eventually years went by and my feelings grew stronger with every passing second I got used to keeping the secret to myself. You were my own little secret that I thought no one would ever know about- even you. But as my feelings grew so did my attempts to get over you (hopeless attempts, as you’ve probably guessed). You could never find me attractive, much less share the feelings I had for you. I could’ve distanced myself, could’ve probably gotten over you years ago if I’d really tried. But we were getting closer by the day and I’ve grown to realize even if we were always just friends, I could never live without you. I am too attached to your kindness, your humor, your humility, your honesty, even your corny jokes. I am attached- no, addicted- to you. And that night when you kissed me, that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re my favorite. My person. My whole world. And when you left the next day, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much sadness and confusion in my life. But I know you were right. We can’t be together right now. The distance would be too hard. I wouldn’t want for you to miss out on life because of me. And who knows? Maybe one day we’ll work. Maybe that night wasn’t just a one-time thing. Maybe the stars will align and we’ll find our way back together. But until then I want you to live your life. I want you to do all the things you’ve ever wanted and all the things you didn’t. Keep going, keep living as if you aren’t missing me like I’m missing you. And if fate should have it, and we should find our way back together, then I promise to love you even more than I do now, and to never let you go ever again. And if we don’t then just remember, I will always be your best friend, your number one fan, and eternally grateful that our paths crossed and I got to know the beautiful person that is you.  

A letter to my secret love

Dear you,

Do you really not know what you mean to me after all of these years? I mean really know. Somewhere deep down you must, or the possibility of it must’ve crossed your mind. I love you. And I know I’ve told you it a hundred times before, but the way I mean it I’m not quite so sure you understand. I mean I love you as in I’m in love with you; as in I know I have never nor will I probably ever love anyone else in quite the same way.
Over the years, you have slowly become my rock. It honestly terrifies me to think about having to live without you. And because of that, it terrifies me that you could ever find out about this, because I know that that could mean losing you.
But sometimes it’s really hard. It’s hard to watch you when I know you’re having a bad day and not have you know how serious I am when I say I’m worried about you and I want to help. It’s hard to be away from you, but honestly it’s also kind of hard to be around you. And most of all, it’s hard to get over you. It’s hard to get over you when I know that I’d rather just keep feeling the way I do about you; it’s become as easy as breathing. People say how hard and painful it is to be secretly in love with their best friend, but they couldn’t be more wrong. Loving you is so easy.  Maybe it’d be better if it wasn’t. Maybe then every guy I talked to I wouldn’t keep comparing to you, wishing it was you sitting across the table from me instead, knowing if it was I’d be having a much better time.
But I consider myself lucky because of it. I consider myself lucky that I’ve found the person who completes me, the person who makes me a better person. I am so very lucky to have found you, to have you, even if it’s only as a best friend.
If all we ever are is friends, if one day we aren’t even that and all I am to you is an old friend you’ve lost touch with, know I’ll never- could never- forget you.  

 

just a thought

today I turned on the news, and all the headlines were about the many things going wrong in the world. and it’s not to say I was surprised, I mean it’s the same thing day after day, month after month, year after year. but does no one see this as a problem? all we do is talk about the negative. you see your friends and isn’t the first thing you do is complain about how tired you are, how much work you have, how you’ve always got so much to do, and you need a break. as humans, we’ve begun to look first for the negative, for the thing that’s wrong when nothing may at first seem to be.

but instead we need to start looking at the positive. this world is filled with enough hate, tragedy and sadness. we should look above this and try to bring some happiness and positivity into our own lives and the lives of people around us.

I work in a preschool with children who are three and four years old, day after day it amazes me how positive and happy they always are. and sure they don’t have to worry about the bills or a career but these kids see the beauty in everything, and this is a skill I think we should all have. why do we have to grow out of this? they can look at any person, animal anything and see the good in it, not the bad. two of the three year old girls got into this fight and were pulling each other’s hair out. I made them go apologize to each other and not twenty minutes later there they are telling me they are best friends and make beaded bracelets for one another. why can’t adults be as forgiving? why do we have to hold grudges?

as people on a planet so full of tragedy, we need to start bringing some light to it. sure we may only be able to touch the  lives of five or ten people, but that’s five or ten people who’s lives you can change who can then go on to change the lives of five or ten more. start smiling at people, forgiving more easily and seeing the good in others instead of the bad.

loving you

loving you was both the hardest and the easiest thing I’ve ever done and’ll probably ever have to do. from the moment we met my world revolved around you. you consumed me. my every thought, every action revolved around you. it was all yours, everything. and you made it so easy. every little detail made it all the more real, all the more beautiful, all the more tragic. and then it was gone. just like that I knew it wasn’t the same for you. I was consumed by you and you cared, I know you did, you do. but I wasn’t enough. you see, you’re the sun, and I’m just a planet. I revolve around you, need you, am here because of you. and sure, I can fascinate you for a short time, steal your attention. but there’s others, others that are better, more beautiful, more fascinating. and just like that I’m an afterthought to you and you, well, you, my love, you’re still going to be the only thing I think about. when someone is your sun you can still see the stars, admire them even. but then the sun rises again without fail and it blinds you, day after day. and loving you, my dear, well, it showed me that the only thing I could ever love that much was you. I could be distracted for awhile but I could never forget you. forget us. and maybe that’s a good thing that I’ll never feel that way again about anyone else. because loving you was sure intoxicating, but it was also toxic.