tonight was one of those nights were i did everything i wanted to - i watched sappy movie after sappy movie about love in a foreign country and ate two bags of popcorn. i don't even care, nor do i really need to be concerned. i'm still downing my diet coke as i'm typing this. sitting on this same brown leather couch that i've been bound to since monday. since i caught this disease.
my lungs aren't the only thing that need medical attention. maybe not even medical but psychological? emotional, maybe physical. but i'm all caught up in 'what about the future' plans. the question of whether i'm in it for the long haul question. and my old, and seemingly forgotten mantra of "dont give your heart to someone undeserving". yet it isn't even that, because he deserves the world. he deserves someone who wants to be touched and talked to all the time. someone who doesn't mind partying until 3am every weeknight or weekend. someone who likes the food he makes. he deserves that girl who needs every ounce of him like he needs her.
but that's not me. it's never been me and never will be. mostly because sometimes even when my closest friends touch me i could kill them. i hate being touched sometimes, and please don't hound me about anything. don't get maaaad when i want to hang out with my family or when i don't want to smoke weed because my lung is currently collapsing. i'm sorry that i don't want to eat your food. the same food that you always make. some sort of pasta with (bet you can't guess it) garlic, onions and peppers. ohhh my god, if i had a dollar for ever meal that was made with those ingredients. i could pay for every ticket to boston i've lusted over. i could pay for my schooling there, and i could buy all of the cardigans i want.
i'm not writing this for anyone, really. i'm writing because i need to get it out of my system so i stop having mild panic attacks about essentially breaking up with him. we aren't even dating, but he gets so anxious and worried and sad. don't need me, i'm probably the wrong girl to ever need because in more ways than one, i'm just like my mother. i'm cold, and i'll reject you until you bleed. and sometimes i won't feel bad. it'll weigh on me until it evaporates into the green along with every other crisis i avert.
no one is here in there right mind next to me. they're somewhere out there falling in love with the cabinets, wandering about the fourth floor. they're somewhere in the green cloud or they're daydreaming about something else. no one is here but this blank page that i fill with hope for myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment