I hate when the person that showers before you doesn’t cap the shampoo/body wash bottles all the way and water seeps through. Then when you go and shower, it comes out all watery.
I can’t sing. haha. I really dislike my voice. I notice I only sing in front of others if I’m in the car, if others are singing as well, or super-ly quiet to myself and my environment is loud. If you get me to sing to you one on one, you must be pretty damn lucky and special.. Especially if we’re on the phone. That’s just me. Idk. I’m self conscious with my voice.
The first thing I do is return all the shit they’ve given me. Every. Little. Thing. I don’t want anything in my room that has your name on it. I pack everything up in a shopping bag and give it to you as soon as possible. Whether it’s at school or at your house, it’ll be returned. That part is easy cause I usually do it when I’m mad.
Next, I delete our pictures. I’ll delete all but one or two. Whenever I’m bored in class, at home, with friends, I look at my photos to happily reminisce almost always. I definitely do not want to see your face in my album of photos that I treasure. This is when it starts to sting. To know that once they’re deleted, I can’t look at us, when we were happy, anytime I want.
Then I delete our messages. That’s the hard part. I no longer have a connection to reminisce. They say pictures are worth a thousand words, but no. It’s 100x easier to delete pictures than conversations.. to me at least. I delete your name completely from my inbox to stop me from talking to you.
Lastly, I go back to the time before I met them. I’ll try to forget turns to I have forgotten within time. I’ll change. I’ll act differently. I’ll cry. I’ll be emotional. I’ll be mad. I’ll gain hatred. It’s the waiting game from here. Once the waiting game is over, a new chapter begins.
And I might miss things, but I wouldn’t want to go back.
I wonder what it’s like to have parents who show affection in front of their kids. My parents have been married for 26 years, and I have yet to see them kiss, hold hands, hug, sleep in the same bed (besides in a hotel), or anything. The closest gesture I’ve seen is my mom linking her arm around my dad’s arm whenever we’re in a crowded place. They love each other though, or at least I think so since they’ve been together for so long. They live through days like Valentine’s day, birthdays, wedding anniversaries like they’re just another day. My parents never fight nor do they show their love for each other. It’s kind of bittersweet. You could say they’re not materialistic. They don’t live everyday to please or impress each other. But I still do wonder what’s it like to be in the presence of love of your parents.
I can close my eyes and I can still remember that day.. the day that made me the person I am today. It still sends me chills like I received it as brand new information. When I think back to that day, it’s like I can replay it in full detail of what had happened.. over and over again. Every step, every word, every breath taken.. You don’t want to look back, but you always will. You don’t want to remember it, but you have to.. and deep down, you want to. I still remember.. that day.
I feel like my posts are getting repetitive, but whatever. I just need to vent. I have so many thoughts in my head and I can’t write them out in an organized manor for once. I guess I’ll write it as it comes to mind. So yeah, you like me.. Do I feel the same way? Honestly.. I think I do.. You make me so damn happy. You’re wonderful and perfect in so many ways. I gave you that nickname so this wouldn’t have happened.. Little did I know, it backfired. But here’s the problem. I think I like you. I want to like you. But I don’t know* if I like you. I feel like pure bull shit cause I’m conflicted with my feelings. I want to like you as much as I can. But something… Something’s pulling me back. What is it? Is it him? God I hope not. It isn’t. I guess.. Maybe I’m.. afraid to like you. I’m scared to take the risk of something more. I don’t want to be a pinball, as she called it. I don’t want to be hurt. Better yet, I’m even more afraid to hurt you. I’m afraid that what we’re doing, is killing you inside. I don’t want to feel like I’m leading you on. I hope you don’t expect much from me cause I don’t want to disappoint.. Sigh* I’m so confusing and damaged. I want to write more, but my mind is tired. To be continued..