cliches are born for a reason
& completely out of character
until someone makes you feel the way
you should’ve always felt about another person
they are the reminder
that if what you feel about him
isnt the stuff of love songs on repeat
or throwing pebbles at a girl’s window kind of grand gesture
its not it.
the magic sauce.
dont settle for your lukewarm feelings
its your heart urging you
to keep lookin’
missing people easily isn’t natural for him
& now that i think about it,
it isn’t for me too.
i’ve had boyfriends go on
long family vacations
& they’d have to pull the words out of me
“don’t you miss me yet?” they’d ask.
i’d say it because..
you’re supposed to say it.
but it was usually such a relief to have them away
it told me i could be fine without
which i thought was just because i’m reasonable
just slightly emotionally detached.
but with you,
i may be at the mercy of my feelings
i may fall apart when you leave.
& the ache will be a throbbing never ending feeling
that can’t be satiated with texts
& quick layover visits
& alexa drop-ins
& you’ll think to yourself,
this girl just feels too much
& assume that this is my M.O when people leave me,
but it’s as if my heart just reserved all this,
just for you.
i may not know if this is the forever kind of thing,
but i ask God
that if its in his plan
to please continue to reveal to me
how wonderful you are
each & every day i have the privilege to even look at you
let alone hold your hand.
& if not,
to please be kind,
& grant me the biggest
most painful sign
that i cant help but acknowledge.
tear you away from me,
in the most brutal way
because im too caught up in this
to ever do it myself.
he only dates with intention
he doesnt waste his time with girls
he doesnt see a possible forever with
& thinks ten steps ahead
in those plans
in that practical future
he sees a possibility of us.
im a probability
& i want him to bet on my odds.
the greatest contradiction about social media,
is everything is eternal
once its out there;
it can be screenshot
or just glimpsed at
but it documents
in a relationship
and so on & so forth
the interweb remembers
the stranger who stumbled upon my facebook remembers
the ex stalking my instagram remembers
so maybe i just always wanted less of me… out there.
to be found, to be seen, to be remembered.
those who matter, know.
i dont need social media as my walking bulletin board, i told myself.
but something about you,
makes me want to open all the windows
& shout from every single platform
how crazy about you i am.
in that annoying,
in your face,
don’t-fucking-care-who-unfollows-me-after-this kinda way.
you make me feel
incredibly lucky to be with you
& its the first time
i want to share this moment with the world.
i love that we share inside jokes
& subtle ways of showing affection
it gives me a sense of exclusivity
even if the world doesn't know what to make of us yet.
"Note to self: Always remember how lucky you are to wake up next to someone who thinks you're the shit."
No two loves are ever the same
for good reason.
So stop comparing yourself to his one big relationship,
& how he pursued her religiously until she was finally won over.
The him then, isn’t the him now..
& the you now, may not be so crazy about him,
had he resumed that role for you.
you have been weighed
you have been measured
& you have been found wanting —
to equate to more.
but the reality is,
you aren’t any less
for having a different sort of love.
fact: i’ve never actively pursued anyone before,
unless you count the 7th grade.
i bought one of those fake fundraising roses
& gave it to my 8th grade crush.
“crush” is an appropriate adjective,
for after i left he properly mocked me in front of his friends
& threw it in the trash.
i never considered myself closed off,
but i definitely wised up real fast.
my heart was no longer visible on my sleeve,
a gleaming badge asking to be stolen.
instead.. it was stitched carefully into the inside of the cuff
so i could finger the seams discretely,
reassuring myself it’s still there.
somehow its made its way to the outside world.
& its a scary place.