If I had to lose you,
I know I would survive.
I would continue to breathe each day
and life would still seem worthwhile.
I am not dependant on you.

But I love you.
And my life each day is enriched with you in it.
As I learn about you, I discover more about myself,
about the kind of person I want to be.
I could survive without you,
counting each breath to persuade the next to exist,
but survival alone isn’t something to long for.
I want to laugh&scream&cry.
For once, I want to feel everything.
I want to live,
to experience the pain&joy&fear that goes along with it.
And I want you there beside me,
every step of the way.

I crawled in bed beside him like I have every night.
The remnants of last night’s sex lingers on the sheets,
but all I pick out is his scent on the pillowcase.
That indescribable smell has consumed my surroundings for weeks,
and it is now distinguishable to me like the smell of chocolate to a fat kid.
It has soaked into my skin, drenched my brain with its memory.
And even if I wanted to,
I would no longer have the luxury of forgetting it,
of forgetting him.

He was deep in thought,
reading every word with absolute concentration.
This was it.
Every thought about him, every word extracted from my heart
lay naked in front of his eyes, scattered across the screen.
How could such anxiety be caused by a few embellished words?
I closed my eyes and waited for the laughter,
But it didn’t come.
And I knew it wouldn’t.
Yet nothing could have prepared me for the smile that took its place.
The one I’d come to know so well had been stained
by a single tear.

I can still smell him. He’s on my clothes, covering every inch of my skin.

I walked in this morning to find him looking up from his book, smiling at me. It was that smile I’d been craving. That, and what lay beneath the covers. He was holding me so close, and I wanted to strip his clothes off, kiss his entire body head to toe, but I didn’t dare. That would mean I’d have to move, and he’d let go of me ever so slightly, and I wasn’t ready to allow even a fraction of an inch between our bodies yet.

He made love to me, he caressed my body, he kissed me passionately, and he fucked my brains out.
He was everything I wanted, everything I needed. The longing, the pain, the doubt—they were all gone, and all that was left behind was pure, raw euphoria.
Afterward, I lay beside him tracing his face with my fingers, memorizing every line, every scar, every freckle. It was as if I’d never see him again, and I wanted to be able to picture that moment for eternity. My mind was racing, my heart was fluttering, but my lips were clamped together. He knew something was up, I could see it in his eyes before he even asked. I felt like I was going to cry, but I was so happy, so content with life at that moment. I kept telling myself, “Tell him. Just tell him.” The words ran through my head, over and over. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, what he needed to hear…
But I couldn’t.
And the moment passed.
And it was time to leave.
I stalled for as long as I could, waiting for another opportunity that I knew wasn’t going to come.
He kissed me goodbye.

It’s been an hour since I left, and I’m still agonizing over my childish fear.
I hope I grow a pair tomorrow.

I paid my bill, and left my friends to finish their still-full drinks, telling them I wasn’t feeling well and needed to lay down. I read his last text again, making sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I drove the 15 mins to his house, my hands shaking the whole way. He was waiting outside, leaning in that cool-n-casual way half hidden by the shadows. My heart was pounding as he climbed in beside me. His calm demeanor quickly disappeared, and I soon realized he was scared shitless, just as I was. I slowly backed out of the driveway, headlights turned off (just in case), and started down the street.

“What the fuck are we doing?” he said. And I gave him the same answer as I always do. “I don’t know.”

We reached the end of his street, and I pulled over once again. I had been waiting for this all night. Before I could say a word, his hand was on my cheek, gently turning my face towards him. His kiss was soft and sweet, his lips tasting like a mix of minty toothpaste and the raspberry lip gloss I knew she always wears. My mouth was now free, but I didn’t dare to open my eyes quite yet. I knew that when I did, those uniquely-blue eyes would be looking back a me. I’ve seen those eyes a thousand times, usually as he undressed me with them at work, but I still haven’t gotten used to how they melt my heart, how they make me tingle.

I still didn’t have a plan, and I knew I shouldn’t be here, but once again I started driving. A few bends in the road and one left turn later and I found myself parked infront of the lake I found last summer. My best friend/study parner discovered it one day, and the lake soon made my list of top 5 favourite places. I’d never ventured there after twilight before, so I didn’t expect what I found awaiting us. The beauty was breath taking, and the silence was almost unnatural.

I reached into the back seat and grabbed a blanket and silently got out of the car. He met me at my door and wrapped the blanket tightly around my shoulders, worried I’d catch cold. I was no longer aware of what my body was doing, of what it was capable of, but I could feel my fingers grasping his hand, and my feet leading us to the table infront of the water. We sat beside each other, me staring at the stars above us, him watching the moon reflect off my ghostly pale skin. I couldn’t breathe, let alone talk. I knew this was wrong. I knew we shouldn’t be here, but at that moment, I was in a peaceful, guilt-free bliss. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that happy while doing something so goddamn wrong. I felt him shift beside me, and he pulled me infront of him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. His first words in what felt like hours: “I know it’s wrong, but I never want to let you go.” And I believed him, for he was squeezing every ounce of air out of my lungs, and I didn’t even care.

I don’t know how long we sat like that, me perched on the table wrapped in his arms, but after what felt like an hour, I began to shiver and he led me back to the car. And that was when the word vomit began.

We shared our fears, we shared our secrets, and we shared our love. We touched each other’s hearts in a way I could never have imagined possible. I learned more about him in that hour than he had shared with her over his lifetime with her. He gave me a piece of him, and I gave him my own, and I knew that now there was no turning back, not for me.

As I traced our path back down the road, I knew my life had been permanently changed. He had broken through my walls, stripped me clean of all my protection, and for once I hadn’t been left with my guts spilling out in every direction. If I had still possessed any morals at that point, they dissolved instantly as if they were never present. I was now emotionally involved in the worst decision I’ve ever made, and nothing else mattered.

I stopped down the road from his house. What was supposed to have been a short kiss goodnight had turned into a confessional, and we vowed to each other that we would not endulge ourselves in another night like tonight. I gave him the kiss I had originally come for, and drove the rest of the block to his house. He watched me from the doorway until my car was out of sight, and all I could think to myself was one thing:

“This was so much easier when it was just a fuck.” 

When I’m with You,

I’m finally Me.

Filling empty spaces

With temporary happiness

The kind that fills in spurts

And dwindles through the night.

Its drug-like satisfaction

Provides the calm to close the eyes

Yet tossing, turning—self and mind

Prevents a peaceful sleep.

Sitting in a room among strangers

30 separate stories

The noise (I’m sure) unbearable

Yet my world is silent.

No sound can steer my thoughts away

From you,

From that smile I miss so much

From your lingering touch that still stings me

From those five hundred miles away.

And all hope seemed lost,

The battle, unwinnable

The passion, misplaced.

Until three little words

 Carefully typed a smile across my face

“I miss you.”

We deserve to be happy, to be surrounded by intense passion. 

We deserve each other’s capacity to love.

But we’ll never have each other because we’ve already crossed so many lines. 

And if we were ever tempted to experience that passion, we really do deserve each other since one horrible person deserves another…

But again, that would never happen because we’d enjoy that too much, and people that suck as much as we do don’t deserve to be that happy. 

So ironically, it doesn’t matter if we’re good, it doesn’t matter if we’re bad,

we’ll never be together.

Karma’s a Bitch.