I fell in love with someone I'd normally never fall in love with- a person wearing hipster TOMS, hair sleeked sideways, skinny jeans, and a badass vocabulary.
I didn't know why, but I took one look and told myself that this was important.
My mind digressed and decided to stick to the general theme of "love". I sure as hell didn't enjoy it. Because I could only think of one person and I didn't know what the fuck it meant. But it sure as hell fucking hurt. Whether it be reality or fantasy, I had made out the person everything it needed to be. It was the epitome of my life and it was the best-worst thing.
Did you know letting go is the only way to be happy?
Well. It is.
I can't let go of certain aspects of my life and it kills me. They tell you to never regret a moment in your life and I can only say that the only thing I can ever do and actually quite good at is- regretting.
I am stuck in the past when past should be past.
I can't understand how to let go; I simply can't let go.
And it's just the worst because I can't let go of how the happiness had shriveled away. How can something so genuine and pure completely burn such a hole in your heart?
Maybe I'm just having a nervous breakdown, but why do certain things have to happen for me to feel so empty and heartbroken. I'm really beginning to believe that happiness doesn't exist and it makes me so sad. Or if there were certain things that forcefully wouldn't allow you happiness- there would be no questions asked and no possible way to make it stop, but you will always be unhappy. And those worry me to the highest extent.
Because I need to be happy. I really, really need to be happy.
Which always brings me back to the topic of certain people.
I couldn't stop thinking of the tone of their voice, their shoes, vulgarity, and streams of confidence. It was something that I couldn't explain- my existence had decided that this was the most important thing in my life now. Nothing else would make me happier. And it scared me and I needed a distraction to react my mind.
So, no. I did not fall in love.
I just needed to distract myself long enough until I'd numb myself cold, but it was the saddest thought I've ever had in my life. To engage myself in different things only to distract and numb my thoughts.
So. That was that.
I don't want to imagine a life waking up in the mornings reminding myself to forgot what had happened. I don't want to regret.
And I finally realized that running away wouldn't help. Just like how it never had helped you. It just couldn't understand what anything meant.
This is one of the scariest feelings in the world. That I will always have unanswered questions and be filled with regret.
I really don't know how what this is and I don't fucking know how to figure this out. And it will fucking kill me if I have to live my life trying to understand any of this.
I'm stuck.
“A coward dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant taste of death but once. It seems to me most strange that men should fear, seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.”
-Julius Ceaser, William Shakespeare
"There is always one person who you love who becomes the definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unkowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those lovable qualities a self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they're often just the person you happen to meet the the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."
-Chuck Klosterman
I think I'm stuck and struck and it is so goddamn sticky.
And I'm too scared to try to get myself out of the puddle.
