So the fact that I’m me and no one else is one of my greatest assets. Emotional hurt is the price a person has to pay in order to be independent.
LET THE FLAMES BEGIN!
I love the way she feels in
the curve of my arm. I love
her unpretentious beauty,
her intelligence, her nerve.
But could I ever love her?
The concept of falling in love
is completely foreign, something
I can’t bring myself to accept.
Her hair pillows my cheek and
her hand on my leg is warm.
I care about you, Conner,
and I hate to see you hurting.
I want to respond but can’t
find the pretty words I need.
Her words were slickly lacquered, dripping with venom that singed the air as they fell. She traced her tongue up my neck and whispered in a way that would shatter glass. “It’s the words inbetween,” she said, “those are the ones I truly mean.” Then, her toes curled with the release of the truth she kept hidden.
He said I wanted revenge, but if I wanted revenge I would’ve just broken his heart.
Today’s word was interminable, meaning never-ending. Like his loneliness. Like the love he felt for Kate. Like the awful hurt that wouldn’t go away.
Today I wore a pair of faded old jeans and a plain grey baggy shirt. I hadn’t even taken a shower, and I did not put on an ounce of makeup. I grabbed a worn out black oversized jacket to cover myself with even though it is warm outside. I have made conscious decisions lately to look like less of what I felt a male would want to see. I want to disappear.
Love is not control, Logan. Love is partnership. Friendship. A wise man once said, ‘If you want to be loved, be lovable.
To be forgotten by the one to whom you never forget is the worst thing ever happens.