Love Me, Love Me Not.

Untitled

** Written by T **

I didn't put a title on this poem because there isn't really a need to.

But every time I look in the mirror I see you. When I look into the faces of other people, I see you. When I close my eyes, I see you. When I dream, I see you. When I write, I see you. When I listen to music, I feel you. When I think about you, you're all I see. You consume every single aspect of my head. And you're like this drug that I cannot seem to get enough of. If you gave me everything I wanted or needed, it wouldn't compare to you. Nothing ever will compare to your smile, your blue eyes, your perfect smile. Nothing will ever come close to that. 

What triggered this? I looked back on my Facebook and found posts I wrote about you. Stuff you posted onto my wall. Do you remember us, the way I remember? Do you still remember us? Do you remember me? Do you even remember yourself? You're getting lost in the alcohol, the drugs, the smoke, the partying, the girls, the fame. Do you remember what I posted about you?

"It's quite interesting when you like someone, you start to notice that everything about them seems more attractive when it seems normal to everyone else. Their smile seems so much brighter. The sound of their voice is more soothing. Their goofy laugh sounds much cuter. Every little thing about them just reels you in. It's like their imperfections don't seem bad at all. It's funny how our view of someone depends on how we feel about them." :)

I remember the exact day I wrote that. I wasn't such a screw up as I am now. I am so screwed up. And don't say that I am because we both know I am. I've gotten darker. I wear darker clothing. I'm not as social and friendly as I once was. I want to rip my fucking insides out because I can't get you out of my veins. I can't get you out of my life, no matter how hard I damn try to get you out. I can't seem to get over you. I can't. I can't. I can't. 

I want to rip my hair out of my skull because I am literally going mad. You invade every single corner of my head and I want to get you fucking out. I want you out. I want to stop leaning on you for support when you're thousands of miles away. Thousands and thousands of miles away. I don't even know myself without you in me. You say that I'm beautiful, talented, pretty, sexy, hot. Every single word in the English dictionary. 

If you watched me bleed to death though, what would you do? Would you say all the things that you've wanted to say to me and make my last few moments of life worth remembering? I wonder that sometimes, you know. I wonder that a lot. What would you do if I died? 

I mention death to you a few times and you completely do not want to talk about it and avoid the subject. You tell me to never talk about me dying again. And I just can't. It's on my mind way too often. 

I had everything figured out. I wanted to be a teacher for the deaf when I graduated from high school. I wasn't planning to fall in love junior year. I went to school that morning and went to my regular classes and 

Holy shit, I'm tearing up as I'm writing this. 

Anyways, I went to my classes and I saw you for the first time. Guitar class. You were quiet. Deathly quiet. I looked at you from across the rooma nd thought you were breathtakingly beautiful. Breathtaking. But I thought to myself, "He could be my heartbreaker." You were... so beautiful. Seemed so.. perfect.

But I was right.

The days passed, and I finally told my friend who was sitting next to you that you were gorgeous, and he said that you said thank you. I immediately began to blush and I avoided talking to him for the rest of class time. It was at the end of the school day and when the bell rang and I was struggling to put up the heavy chair I was sitting in, you came over to help me.

Whoever the hell said chivalry is dead? My mother said. 

Days passed. I got the nerve to give you my number and we talked for the first time. I'm not going to lie. It was very hard to understand you, I didn't even understand 75% of what you said. I just said, "I'm not sure," or "I don't know." 

We texted for a bit before finding each other on Facebook on September 9th, 2013. 

We talked every single day after football practice and met each other in guitar class. But he transferred out of guitar class only a few days before we dated. This sounds so weird but I cried only a little after I found out. My only friend was switching out.

I wore my hockey jersey, only for you. And you grinned when you saw me. Oh, that smile. I swear. That smile could kill.

We finally went out. September 25th, 2013. Yeah, I know. So soon. I get it.

I was so happy with you, but afraid to speak. And you know why. You know one hundred percent why. I was so afraid. Afraid of screwing up around you.

A week after you asked me out, I got the courage to hold your hand, and my, was it lovely. It was so lovely. It's like your hand was made just for me. I loved it so much. It was a foreign feeling, but it felt so damn good. 

I went to your first football game. I made you a sign. The whole nine yards. After the game, we took a photo. It was our first. I still have it on my Facebook. Why? I have no idea. 

The day after that was a big damn mess, let me tell you. The kiss... that damn kiss that didn't happen and you got angry at me for it. I've never kissed anybody... in a school hallway for my first kiss? It wasn't my ideal place. You got ANGRY at me for saying no. I cried and was sad for the rest of the day after that. But you still waited me out in the hallway after guitar class. Which I fell in love with as well. And you could carry my guitar...

Then it hit me. Fifteen days...

But it was a pleasure to get my heart broken from you. It taught me so much. It taught me so much.

But here I am, literally ten months later, still not over you and it hurts me so much to think that you're talking to other girls when I am completely and utterly in love with you..

I am in love with you. 

there. i said it. if you're reading this... i'm sorry you had to find out this way. But hopefully you threw away my letter and didn't read this. Because if you are, I am embarrassed of myself. You could beat me until I couldn't breathe and I would still love you. I would still think that you're my everything. I can't handle this feeling. It's torturing me from the inside out. Over the course of eleven months, you've become so close to me. I hope that I am one of your closest friends, because you're pretty high up there for me. I have so many demons in my body and when I'm talking to you, they vanish away.

Before I met you, I thought scratching/self-harm was so stupid. So damn stupid to do. It was pointless. It hurt.

Then after you left for your home country again, I did it. I did it. Goddammit, I did it.

And I told you about it. And you demanded for me to not do it again. That's the thing though. It's not that damn easy. It's stupid. I agree with you. But... the pain... it hurts. It hurts. Please make it stop... make it stop!

You're my best friend.. I'm sorry. I don't know how it's humanly possible to fall in love with someone in fifteen days, but it is for me. I can't deny this feeling anymore. I can't. 

I am in love with you. And I always will be as long as you're in my life.