Who would haveever known thatfalling in lovecould hurt somuch. That itcould make youfeel so small,so insignificant, soforgetful. If Iwould have knownthat falling inlove could beso painful, Iwould have neverfallen in loveto begin with.
You can make loveto as many men as you’d like,but when that fiery passion starts to subside, you will be thinkingof the one you really want.The one who made your heart ignite. The one brought you to this meltdown in the first place
I will forever be hauntedby the thought of how it couldhave been if we would have both just let our weak and tortured past go.
I’ve spent so much of my timeloving someone who would neverreally give a damn if I even loved them at all.
I ruined you, didn’t I?Changed your outlook on love.Those once so positive feelingsare now molding into a bitterreality. I figured that you knewit was like this sometimes.That not even the happiestof couples can remain insideof bliss forever. But still,I ruined you. And I will neverbe able to forgive myselffor what I’ve done to youronce so hopeful heart.
You have givenme all of the love that I have always thought I neverdeserved.
You will always bemy favorite hello,and my most painfulgoodbye.
I don’t want her anymore,don’t need her anymore.She bruised me, brokethe pieces of me that Ineeded for another timewhen a new lover wouldfind their way into my arms.And she knew that, soshe spent her time ruiningthe parts of me that I wouldneed for future situationswhen someone tried todo exactly what she has done.Don’t let her emptinessfool you in the same way that it has tricked me.
I should just forgetabout you. What’s theuse in waiting for someone who will never really knowhow to accept love,or to give it backin return. You reallyare a lost cause.
I hope that this time aroundit will be different. That shewill see me as the personwho still has a fighting chance.That we will not let our lovebe destroyed by jealous wordsand untrue assumptions.I hope that this time aroundit will be different. Becausethis time around, I’m not going to give up so easily.
You can continue tryingto convince yourselfthat it’s you that I amwriting about, or that it’sthe thought of you thatkeeps me up at night.But I have not dreamedabout you in months,or have woken up everymorning with your facein my mind. I let the fireof your memory subsidewhen I finally realizedthat this thing we had,this forced kind of lovethat we had created, onlyfelt real when we both hadnothing else to look forward to.
I always thoughtthat they were wrongwhen they saidthat it wasn’t alwaysgoing to be easy.
I know that youare better without me,happier without me,more in tune with the things that you havealways wanted withoutme. When I finallylet you go, I could seethe sudden sparkof inspiration in yourworn out eyes. You area better person without me,even when you feel as ifyou could be more completewith me still tied aroundyour confused heart.
And when you lose her because you were the one who stopped searching for her in the first place, don’t expect her to one day follow the path back to your arms.She’s looking for something too.So don’t be surprised when she finds someonewho will never lose herfrom their sight.She has always been lookingfor a place to call home,and she has always wantedthe light in someones eyesto help guide her there.
I know women like you,women who have been toldto keep their mouth shutbut their heart open.Women who put their needsin front of any man who claimsto be their everything. Womenwho have told their storyso many times that they couldrecite it in their sleep. Womenwho blame their problemson themselves instead of shiftingthe blame on the worlds shoulders.I know women like you, womenwho belong to no one butthemselves. Women who don’tsmile when they are not happy,and who won’t hesitateto tell you that you are gettingon their last nerve. Women whospeak without being spoken to,and who don’t give a fuckif you’re a man to tell you thatif you move one more inchpast the line of inappropriateness,they will bite your narrow mindedand insensitive head off.I know women like you, womenwho don’t have to think twicewhen it comes to knowingwhat they want and not caringabout who they have to destroyin order to get it. I knowwomen like you, and it’s a privilegeto be able to know you at all.
Remember me as the womanwho loved you with every inchof her fragile body. Take thosememories of when we werehappy and replace them withthe times when you thought that this would never be enough to keep you comingback. Remember me as thewoman who would have drainedherself of her own happinessjust to fill you up with somethingother than loneliness. I hopeyou remember me as the womanwho would have given youlight over any amount of darkness.Because I know that I willalways remember you like this.
Your presence is still lingering.I’ve tried writing you out of myhead and my heart but all thatseems to do is make your memorymore visible, more alive. You arestill here with me somehow.I see you everywhere, I see youin every new face that I try to replace yours with. There is nouse in forcing myself to forgetabout you. No amount of newlovers and warming words willever be able to erase you.
I needed you
and you left me.
I missed you
and you forgot me.
I loved you
and you hurt me.
I fixed you
and you ruined me.
It was like a sudden
gust of wind, or an almost
empty sky, filled with one
cloud that for some reason
cannot stop itself from crying.
This is how it felt when
you left, a sudden storm
that gave no warning before
destroying an entire city.
And just like the civilians,
I had no idea what to do
next but to sit and wait for it
to stop. But unlike rain clouds
and spiteful tides, the feeling
of your destruction never did
pass. It was always above me,
always following me like I was
the only one who needed
this disaster to appreciate
what I still had. But it never
felt like a lesson, and I still
have yet to learn from my mistakes,
still have yet to prepare myself
in case it happens again.
But I am still waiting for
the remnants of what you left
me with to fix itself, to show me
that there might still be some hope
of your demise. So I will wait
for this feeling of uncertainty
and anxiety to stop. But knowing
you, and knowing of your capability
to manipulate anything that tries
to stop you, I will be waiting
for the rest of my life.
We both created promises
that we couldn’t keep.
So there is no use
in blaming someone other
than ourselves. It was
both of our fault that we
couldn’t stick to what
we had swore to when we
both thought love
was on our side. So there
is no use in trying
to point a finger at anyone
other than the person
who is looking back at us
in the mirror.
I loved you through
thick and thin. I loved
you even when I thought
there was no more love
inside of my heart to give.
I loved you until my hands
grew tired and sore from
holding onto something
that was going to eventually
leave in the end. I loved
you through everything.
Even when I was left
with absolutely nothing.
I know you still
see me in all of
your favorite
things.
I’m falling in love with
the wrong people. Showing
the hidden parts of myself,
the parts that still need
time to heal, to the wrong
kind of people. It’s the kind
of people that don’t hesitate
to rip open your scars,
and to make that almost
faded bruise reappear on
the surface of your skin.
I’ve been falling in love
with the wrong people.
And I don’t have anyone
to blame but my own heart.
And I was a fool
to ever believe
that you could
have changed
just because I
said I love you.
Do you remember how
your hands felt when you
tore my entire world apart?
Or the look in my eyes
when I begged you not to
go, to reconsider, to erase
all of the memories of when
my love tasted more like cruelty.
Do you remember watching
me walk through those
high school hallways after
I saw you with a younger,
more plump, more together
girl? I know you remember
because there was a moment
when our eyes connected
and all I could see inside
of yours was a lack of sympathy,
and hope that your new found
lover might be better than I
ever was. When you first met
me, I was just a girl. When you
first met her, she was just a
child. Do you remember taking
my innocence from me like
it was something you deserved?
Fooled me into believing
that the word love really meant
yes. Do you remember how
it felt tearing my entire world
apart with your bare hands?
Even if you don’t, I always
will, because I still have
the scars from your destruction
all over my body as if it was
a map of all the places
you have ever ruined.
"I’ll always remember, even if you don’t,
You wanted this, you wanted me.You wanted a messy woman who keepstruth on the tip of her tired tongue.You wanted me, all of me. You wanted a palette of skin that iscovered in self-inflected and accidental scars.You wanted this, you wanted me.You knew what you weregetting yourself into before youactually looked through me thoroughly.You wanted this, you wanted me.But I am not something that comeswith a money back guarantee,and even if you don’t break me,there is no return policy attachedto my heart. So this is what youwanted. You wanted me. And I hopethat what you have finally gottenwas everything that you ever wished to have.
"I know you’ll probably never forgive me, but I’m still sorry."
- 3:38 a.m. (unanswered)
"Hey, this is probably really random but I was thinking about you the other day because a song from Phoenix started playing on shuffle on my iPod, and I just wanted to tell you that I miss you."
- 12:15 p.m. (unanswered)
"You’re probably going to delete this before you read this but if you don’t, I just wanted to tell you that I still love you. And honestly, I don’t care if you don’t love me back because I have enough love in my heart for the both of us." (unread)
- 12:32 a.m.
"You can’t keep doing this to me."
- 4:45 p.m. (unanswered)
"Do you love me or not? Because your neglect is telling me that you don’t, but your poetry is telling me you do."
- 10:32 p.m. (unsent)
"I know that you fucked her when I wasn’t willing to see you. I can already imagine what you would do if I decided never to touch you again. I could probably smell you on every girl that passed me on the street."
- 11:13 p.m. (unanswered)
"I hope it felt good when she sucked you off. I hope it felt like love. I hope it felt like forever. I hope she was able to taste the disloyalty and the misguided truth when you finally finished."
- 2:32 a.m. (unread)
"I’ve loved you since the day I met you. And if that’s too much for you then I will understand if you never want to see me again."
- 7:47 a.m. (unanswered)
"unread, unsent, unanswered text messages,"
And when they saythat they no longerlove you, take allof the love you madefor them out of yourheart and make itrevolve around yourself.And when they saythat they no longerneed you, take that feeling of abandonment and start lookingfor yourself. And whenthey say that theyare better off without you,show yourself that youhave always been betteroff without them.
You made me believe that you had finally forgotten about me. That you hadgotten rid of the memories,the love, and every wordthat I carefully placed onthe inside of your heart.You made me believethat you had finally erasedme from your mind. Myname is no longer a wordthat you have becomefamiliar with. You made mebelieve that you had finallyforgotten about me, untilI tried forgetting about you.
I let you go becauseI wanted to see if youwould come back. Because everyone hastold me too many timesthat if it’s meant to beit will be and if you let itgo it will come backto you if it’s supposed tobe made for you. So I let you go, and youhaven’t come back, and I don’t know why I amstill waiting on someoneto return who is obviously better off without me.
They told us that it would not last.That what we had thought was goingto be forever would only be untilwe met the eyes of someone elsewho could give us what was saidthat every woman needs. But wedon’t need what everyone elsewants, and we don’t need to listento the words of those who canonly see love in one kind of light.I look at you and I am home.I am safe inside of a haven that we built with our own hands.You are everything that I need,that I want, and that I will alwayscrave, and no one else can tell us what it is that we need to survive.
It wasn’t my suddendistance that tore us apart.And it wasn’t my lackof dedication towards theend of whatever this isthat we’ve spent so muchtime trying to perfect.It was the way you touchedme with your hands afterbeing soaked in disloyalty,and the way you stoppedloving me when all I neededwas for you to show methat you still cared about this,even when I made it seemlike I never did to begin with.
I missed the way that her body
fit so well into my body. Or the way
her hands never stopped exploring
my skin, even when she became
familiar with every piece of land
that my limbs were attached to.
I missed the way she could look
at me and already be able to tell
if there was something at the tip
of my tongue. She has given me
the courage to say it before I can
push it back for no one else but me
to have to deal with. I know that we
both might be better off without each
other’s arms tied around each other’s
bodies but I cannot help myself
when it comes to thinking about her.
She is the only thought that I hope
will never pass in time.
The truth is: I’ve never stoppedloving you. Not even for a second.Not even during all of those timeswhen I told you that my life wouldhave been better if I would havenever met you, never fell in lovewith the simplicity of your everything.I lied to myself and I lied to youwhen I wrote out my absencefor you in faded black typewriterink. I lied because I knew that I hadto. That if I didn’t cover up my pain with cruelty, I would be backat the start; with you seeing meas only temporary, and with my eyesconfusing coincidence for fate.
She will remember allof the things that I alwaysforgot. After telling her howyou take your coffee, she willalready have it ready for youbefore you leave for work.And if she has to go beforeyou, she will not hesitate towake you up with her lips.She’ll always want a goodbye,an explanation, a story aboutevery place you’ve ever been to.She will love you like you havealways deserved, and I cannotrevolt against something thatsomeone can do for someoneI love that I never could.
I hope you think of me when she is pressing her lips against yours for the first time. I hope it brings you back to the time when I was in her position and you had yet to become familiar with how it feels to be loved by someone who you can actually touch and get away with the feeling after.
I hope you think of me when you take her to your favorite places for the first time. When you tell her about your childhood memories of being too young to know that it would end faster than you thought. When you look at her after telling her about your embarrassing adolescence, I hope you think of me and how I only listened, while she is just waiting to talk and to top anything that has happened to you.
When you bring her home to meet your parents, I hope you think about the first time your mother and I bonded over Beatle records and red wine when she tells your mother that she’s never heard of the Beatles, and that red wine gives her a headache. I hope you think of me when you see the disconnect in your mothers eyes from future thoughts of how it’s going to be harder than she thought to replace me in her heart with this new woman who doesn’t understand how to share others interests who have been through it all.
When you make love to her for the first time, I hope you think of me. I hope you see my skin inside of her curves, and I hope you hear me moaning your name while she is silently waiting for it to be over so she can go home and call her friends to tell them about the way you pant like a dog when all you want is to be told that you look beautiful at your most vulnerable.
I hope you think of me when you think of her because I want you to feel how I felt when you ended things too quickly between us because you thought that I deserved more, when really, what I deserved was your dedication and ideas of forever. I hope you think of me while your at the end of your bed, face in your hands, explaining to her why you can’t attach yourself to people, and that it’s not her but it’s you. It’s always been you, and no amount of new lovers will ever be able to change that trait about yourself. I loved you even when you didn’t know what being loved meant, and I will still love you when she tells you that she never loved you to begin with.
"I hope you think of me,
With a cigarette in her hand,
and two shots of tequila later,
she already forgets why
she came here in the first
place. But no amount of alcohol
or mind altering drugs could ever
make her forget why she is doing
this to herself in the first place.
You knew when you had her heart
in the palms of your hands what
you were capable of. You always
knew what could keep her going
and what could ultimately end her.
But you did it anyway. You made
her feel as if she was the only
one that belonged to you, and you
pushed her out of your heart
before she could even shut the door
after her. You damaged her,
and now she is taking it out on herself.
You made her feel special,
and then after you used her into your
own advantage, you tossed her
out on your curb for someone else
to deal with. You broke her,
and you couldn’t care less because
you are not the one who
has to pick up the pieces.
"She was whole until she met you,
You will always bea part of me,even though youare no longera part ofmy life.
Maybe if I close my eyes you’ll disappear.And maybe, just hopefully,the memories of your neglect will too.
And when I find the girlthat I’ve been searching for,I am going to give her all of the love that I haveinside of my taken for grantedheart. I am going to show herthat there is no such thing aswanting someone too much,and that is possible to loseyourself inside of someone else. When I finally findthis girl that I have beensearching for, for too manyyears too long, I am going tolove her in all of the waysthat she has always wanted,and in all of the waysthat she has always deserved.
I’ve made a promiseto myself that this willbe the last time I will think about you, writeabout you. I no longersee a point in lovingsomeone who’s mind isconsumed in thoughts of another. We had ourchance at love, but nowit’s time for me to find it within the arms ofsomeone who willactually fight for it too.
I’ll never forgetabout the last timethat I looked in youreyes, because thatwas when I knewthat what we hadwanted for so longwas finally over.I cannot believethat I ever yearnedfor your presence.
I. You know where
to touch me in all of
the right places.
II. You know when
to get me back
before I am gone
for good.
III. You know why
I’m trying to move
on from you.
IV. You know how
to make me wish
that we never met
at all.
You only love me
when you feel as if
there is no one else
to make memories with.
You only need me when
you feel as if you have
lost everyone that has
ever mattered. You only
want me when you feel
as if everything is not
going your way. And you
only miss me when you
feel as if you have lost
me for good.
I want to tell her that it’s okay,
that I know we all make mistakes
and say things when nothing
seems like it’s fair. I want to
tell her that I am sorry, because
I am, and I’m not just saying
that because I know I was
the one who left before
she could even notice that time
had moved past her. I want
to tell her that I’ll always be
holding on, even when she has
finally convinced herself that
she should let go. I want to tell
her that I didn’t mean to
push her away so quickly,
and that she really did deserve
a proper goodbye. I want to
tell her that my biggest regrets
are always the ones when I
didn’t think things through.
I want to tell her that I still
think of her, and that I never
really stopped. I want to tell her
that I will always love her,
and I still love her. But if she
still doesn’t know that already,
and if she never really did,
then I want to tell her
that she never really
knew me at all.
"I want to tell her that I am still not ready to say goodbye,
It’s so easy for youto talk about your newlovers, and about all of the things you areable to do now, nowthat I am gone. It’s soeasy for you to fill upthe space in your heartwhere my love usedto be. It’s so easyfor you, while it’s killingme to even look atsomeone in the eyeswithout seeing your face.
If you study my words closely enough,you will always be able to see somethingthat is about you. Whether it be a poemabout falling back into love, or even aconfession about how my lonelinessis starting to become the only one that I can depend on. Somewhere, there is always something about you.And I cannot help myself when itcomes to writing you somewhere inmy meaning. So the next time you arereading one of my poems that isabout how to forget about someone whowas once your entire world, I hope you know that the poem is about you.
I hope that one daywe can both look backon these memoriesof cruelty and heartacheand that we can both seehow much we really didmean to one another. Because if both of us really didn’t care as muchas we say we do now,we would have neverfought so hard for each others love in the first place.
And you have to bea goddamn fool to believethat I would really be happierwithout you being here with me
I want to say goodbyeto all of this pain, but Idon’t want to let you go.And I’m not sure whichis worse: feeling emptybecause of your love,or feeling broken becauseof your permanent absence.
We could just pretendlike this is the first timewe have ever met.But this time we couldgo into this with a littlemore knowledge than whatwe had before. Maybe thistime we could put our handsaround each others hearts;keeping the most importantvessel safe, instead of placingour hands around each othersthroats. Maybe this time around we could create loveinstead of space, and fondmemories over bitter thoughts.Maybe this time aroundwe can do it right.And even if we can’t,maybe we can at leastend it like we did.
I don’t care about who it isthat you’ve decided to fall in lovewith this week. I don’t careabout how much you miss meeither. Mostly since you werethe one who let me go.I don’t care about what wecould have been if I would havejust stitched my lips togetherand gave you everythingthat you wanted, no matter howmuch it pained me. I don’t careabout where you are now,how you feel, or where I haveended up in your mind. I wish youwould just push me out of yourthoughts, burn all of the memoriesthat we created, and finally justmove on with your life, since yousay it has been better without me.I don’t care because wheneverI do, I just end up back at thebeginning; with my heart around your finger, showing others that youalways get what you want.No matter who it ends up crushing.
I may not have beeneverything that you thoughtI was going to be whenyou were finally in my presence,in my arms, and inside ofmy life. You thought that mygrowth was made up ofnothing but poetryand pressed flowers,but just because I was notyour dream come truedoes not mean that I am notsomeone else’s desire.You can yearn for me as muchas you would like to,but just because how you wantedme to turn out was not the waythat I really was does not meanthat I have changed for the worst.And just because I am notwhat you were romanticizingall along, does not mean that Iam not what someone else wants with everything insideof their hopeful heart.
I’m imagining being with her, next to her, anything with her. I’m imagining touching her skin, her lips, and pressing my hands into her hands and falling in love with the way they fit so perfectly, like they were meant to be together.
I look at her body, examine her arms and I can see that by the way her skin looks, she has been through experiences that had the power to be a part of her forever. But that doesn’t make her any less beautiful, and that doesn’t make her weak, but strong to be able to look at her own limbs and tell others that she made it through. That even with the pain of always being able to remember, she will never let it make the decision for her.
She is a mystery that I cannot wait to solve. The last chapter in a book that has only opened my eyes to new lessons in life, but never taught me how to let go. She is a fantasy that is too vivid to describe. A dream that you wish you could never wake from. She is a vision that is too good to be true; I am hallucinating, can’t I see that none of this is real? Can’t I see that if I want her too much, she will vanish in the thin air, leaving me with nothing to prove to anyone, and only feeding my insanity to a point where its too full to ever be dismissed.
I’m imagining being with her, next to her, anything with her. I look at her body, examine her arms and I can see that her by the way her skin looks, she has been through experiences that had the power to be a part of her forever. She is a mystery that I cannot wait to solve. And as long as she loves me in-return, I won’t ever have to finish my favorite part.
I don’t miss you because
I am lonely, or because
you have found someone
who is worth your time.
I miss you because
I still love you, and I always will
even when I didn’t show it
when you were finally mine.
When you left me
I was the one who had to
stay in all of the places
that you and I created
new memories in.
When I look at my bed,
and am next to your spot,
I can still see the shape
of your body beneath
the now so lonely sheets.
When I am inside of my car,
I can still feel your hand
against my knee, and I can
still hear the hum of your voice
in sync with the songs
that reminded you of me.
And even when I am
outside in the driveway,
I can still feel the way
you looked at me before you
left, and told me with your
eyes, to beg you not to go.
I’m thinking of the new
girl who is sleeping in
your bed, in the spot
that was mine before
you made the choice
that you wanted someone,
something better than
me, and what I was able
to give to you. I’m thinking
of this new girl who has
sparked your interests,
and who is able to fulfill
your desires. I’m thinking
of this new girl and I am
imagining your future with
her, and I am feeling pity
inside of my chest for her.
I am thinking of her and
I am hoping that you don’t
throw her out like you did
with me. I hope she is
exactly what you have been
looking for because I don’t
want her to have to feel
how I am feeling now;
completely lost without a
hint of knowledge to why
it is that you can make
people feel so disposable.
"Not even the garbage man can understand why you threw something so useful away,"
I didn’t say goodbyebecause I didn’t want itall to stop in that moment.And you deserve more thantwo syllables when it finallycomes to the end.
I tell myself that you’llcome back someday soon.That this is only temporary.I’ve been believing my ownlies lately. I’ve been tellingmyself that you really didn’tmean it when you told methat loving me at all was amistake. I tell myself that youwill realize that you need mesomeday. That you’ll take thenext train out to come andsee me, to make things rightbetween us. I tell myselfthese things because I don’twant to believe that youhave stopped loving me.I’m believing my own liesbecause I am not ready tocome to terms that youhave really moved on.
There is a lightinside of youthat I hopewill neverburn out.
I hope my memorylingers within the partsof your mind that youcannot reach. I neverwant you to forget aboutme. I want my absenceto burn the most revealingparts of your skin.I will always bea part of you.
We went from loversto enemies in the matterof months, and if whatyou say about me nowis really how you felt all along then I never will be able to see youin the same passionate daylight that I oncesaw you in before.
You’re not making thisbetter by throwing wordsof cruelty my way. Youwant me back? You wantme to love you with everything I have to offer?Well you are not makingthis any better by pokingholes of insensitivity inmy heart. You think that youknow me so well becauseI showed you the partsof myself that I revealedto you. But you don’t know me. And to think thatyou did at all was the biggest mistake that youcould have ever committed.
Stop measuring yourself-worth by the amountof times that others handshave met your skin withhopes that maybe it willgo further than just lipsagainst lips. You are morethan lust, more than thedesire to explore a bodythat someone has yet tobecome familiar with. Everything that you haveyet to do does nottitle you with the labelof inexperienced. Giveyourself a fighting chance.You are much more thana night spent alone witha stranger who’s onlyintention is to claim yourskin as their own territory.
No matter where you are,or where you end up, I will always be with you.Whether you travel toforeign lands with nothingbut an open mind, orwhen you come home and into arms that do notbelong to me, I will alwaysbe with you. And I hopeyou can say the sameabout me.
You pushed me awaybut expected me to comerunning back to youwith open arms and anopen heart. How could yoube so selfish? How couldyou love me so muchbut give me nothing butmiles and bitterness? You are the only personthat has ever made meme feel so small, but sosignificant at the same time.
Może ktoś na Nią czeka w domu. Może jest z kimś po prostu umówiona. Może pójdzie dziś z kimś do łóżka. Nie wiem. Nie chcę wiedzieć.(...) Skasowałem Jej numer, ale wciąż znam go na pamięć. — Żulczyk
I used to think that Iwould be in completebliss by being in yourpresence, but all I feltwas the need to fleewithout looking back.
I’m sorry for turning your once so full of loveheart into battle field.It was never my intentionto turn you sour, or toturn your outlook on lovegrim. I never meant tohurt you. I just wanted toshow you that even thebravest of hearts can sometimes fall within the weakest walls ofdespair and desperation.
I hope that when youlook back on what weonce had when we weretogether and in love,you will remember meas the only person whocould give you everythingthat you never neededbut always desired.
Stop searching for mein the faces of strangers.You will never find mein the places that wecreated unforgettablememories in. Stop lingering in the creasesof my almost recoveredmind. I will not let youruin me like this again.
There is infinite loveinside of my heart for you,and no amount ofwishing me away could ever make this tendernessfor you disintegrate.
We try to show the onewho hurt us the most thatwe never loved themby pushing ourselves intoanother body like we aretwo waves without anyself-control or guidance.We do this in hopesthat the one who hurt usthe most will seethat we never neededthem to become sobeautifully destructive.
I still miss you, you know. Everything about you. All the things I loved, and now, I even miss the things that I hated. I miss the way you used to tell me that I was the first thing to come into your head after waking up, and the last thing you thought about before falling into slumber. I still miss you, you know. I miss the way you used to tell me about the things you didn’t actually want to talk about, but had to get out of your head. I miss the way you used to look at me when I had too much to drink and you had to carry me to the car like I was a child that was too tired to stand up on her own. I still miss you, you know. I miss the way your hands used to explore my body like it was land that you never stepped foot on, but was actually your home. I even miss the sound of your voice when you were too angry with me to form words into proper sentences to make your point clear. I still miss you, you know. The way in which you used to love me even when I didn’t love myself. I miss the feeling of being yours, knowing that I was the only one in your heart, and that I was the only thought that you could never get out of your head. I still miss you, you know. And your prolonged absence from my presence is only making that yearning for your return even stronger.
We were never meantto go our separate ways.We were meant to travelalong the same pathwith our hands knottedtogether and our heartsbeating in sync. We werenever supposed to goour separate ways. And I’m sorry it took you leaving for me tofinally understand.
Falling in love with you
was not a mistake.
Making you a part of
my world was not
a mistake. But believing
that you loved me too
was the greatest
mistake of all.
I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to show you how it felt to be left alone when all you wanted was someone who could understand.
Stop telling everyone that I was the one who pushed you away. You were the one who’s heart was colder than the temperature outside during the most bitter winter.
I will always love you. Even when I don’t want you.
I’ve accepted the fact that you’ve moved on. That you’re able to pick up any piece of meat that looks your way in a beat down bar. But I have not and will never believe you when you say that you never loved me. That’s a thought that is too obscure to ever be considered as the truth.
I still love you. I’m still waiting.
When you wrote forever
you forgot to mention me.
When you wrote loyalty
you forgot to mention
the lack of your own.
When you wrote love
you forgot to mention
how you never understood
the meaning behind it
when it was coming from
my mouth. When you wrote
longing you forgot to
mention how I was the
only one who ever felt it.
rak spójnej definicji miłości jest dowodem na nieudolność psychologów i filozofów. Skoro coś istnieje to musi istnieć również właściwa definicja - uniwersalna i spójna. Miłość mimo całej magii, całego pozytywnego i negatywnego ładunku - musi być opisywalna. I wg mnie wygląda to tak:
Miłość to nieracjonalne uczucie bliskości - wywołane wtórnym przeżywaniem własnych emocji.
Bo jak się przyjrzeć wszystkim zakochanym - to oni się podniecają przede wszystkimwłasnymi emocjami jakie wywołuje w nich obiekt miłości.
To jak bardzo podnieca ich obiekt miłości to pikuś przy tym, jak bardzo podniecają ich własne odczucia. To słynne ciepło koło serca, motyle w żoładku, wszelkie fantazje... to najważniejsze w zakochaniu.
Obiekt miłości potrzebny jest im do wywoływania tego stanu. Żeby mogli go znowu przeżywać. I znowu.
Jeśli ktoś się zafascynował drugą osobą, ale tego nie przeżywa, nie emocjonuje się swoją fascynacją - to miłości nie ma.
Może być ktoś najcudowniejszy, najwspanialszy - ale dopóki jest wspaniały po prostu obiektywnie - dla wszystkich, to nie jest miłość.
Miłość zaczyna się kiedy ten ktoś zaczyna być kimś szczególnym dla mnie.
Tylko dla mnie.
Bo zakochanie musi być subiektywne! Nieważne kim ktoś jest naprawdę - ważne kim on jest DLA MNIE. Właściwie nieważne jaka jest obiektywna prawda o osobie którą kocham - bo ważniejsze jest własne wyobrażenie i własne emocje - którymi się żyje, którymi się dzieli, które są bliskie.
Dopóki nie ma myślenia o szczególnej więzi - to tej więzi nie ma. Może być miło, może być ciekawie, może seks, ale nic z miłości...
Wystarczy jednak, że się pojawi myśl o bliskości i myśl ta spowoduje jakąś miłą emocję...
Gdyby nie myśleć już więcej o tym, to nic nie będzie. Ale wystarczy zainteresować się tą swoją emocją, zafascynować nią i miłość zaczyna rosnąć. Im więcej emocjonowania się swoją emocją tym gwałtowniej przybiera uczucie.
Obiekt miłości jedynie może dawać powody, żeby pobudzić emocje - ale cały proces zakochania odbywa się w obrębie jednej osoby.
Zakochanie to uczucie wkręcone sobie samemu. Zdziwienie?
Bo to zwykle się wydaje, że ta miłość sama spadła jak jastrząb, chwyciła i trzyma!
No nie.
To przeżywanie tego, co się samemu czuje. Ekscytowanie się tym, jak taka wybrana osoba działa na własne emocje.
Miłość to jest wkręt który niechcący każdy sam sobie zrobił.
Miłość przechodzi różne etapy. Na początku ta fascynacja własnym przeżywaniem jest największa. W końcu jednak ile się można tak podniecać własnymi emocjami?... Po szalonym zakochaniu później nie ma nic. Za to zostaje skojarzenie pozytywnych emocji z osobą (o ile zostaje - bo różnie bywa).
I na pytanie: czy wciąż kocham? - sięga się do emocji jakie się odczuwa.
I co?
Jeśli emocje są pozytywne ale nie powodują żadnego podniecenia (przypominam: emocje a nie obiekt uczuć) to już po ptokach. Może być pozytywnie, ale i tak już po miłości.
Jeśli emocje wciąż powodują wtórną przyjemność posiadania tych emocji - to miłość ma się dobrze.
To co piszę odziera trochę miłość z czaru i magii. Bo zakochanie zamiast cudownego zauroczenia okazuje się egocentryczną egzaltacją (którą właściwie uczono nas pogardzać) lub jakimś rodzajem nerwicy. Nic dziwnego, że takiej definicji nikt nie będzie chciał.
Ale i tak jest prawdziwa - czy się podoba czy nie. (tak uważam)
(pominąłem w niej cały aspekt tzw. "chemii" która bywa nieraz decydująca - ale działa też wg powyższych reguł)
First things first, dispose of everything that reminds you of them. The things that they gave you as a token that they are still thinking of you, that things are still going strong. Box it up, throw it out, and if you’re really ready to let go, burn it. Take the photographs of when things were still going good, off of your wall and off of your computer. But most importantly, remove and erase the photographs of when you were happy. Forget about how good you look in their flannel shirt. Cut it up and bring a piece to all of the places that you ever went to together. Leave the memory behind along with shreds, and along with the pain. There is no looking back now.
"If you want to forget,"