December 19, 2012
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Best I ever had
It’s kind of like the difference between putting your hand on your knee, and him putting his hand on your knee. When you touch your knee, you don’t feel it, nothing happens, it’s just there. But when he has his hand there, you feel everything. Every move of his palm, every squeeze of his hand, and every brush of his finger. And you feel it right down to your toes and up to your neck. Everything in your body tingles, but it’s the most wonderful thing ever.
Have you ever really thought about it? You’ve got this girl, head over heels in love with you. She would do anything for you, she would die for you. But for some reason, you don’t want to see that. You know it’s there, and you know that you feel the same way. But you refuse to let it be. Maybe you’re scared. Maybe you’re scared of the thought that this girl who you’ve known forever – you’ve seen her happy, you’ve seen her sad, maybe this girl is perfect for you. And that really scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?
Do you know how it feels to be dead while still alive? To fall asleep each night to the sound of your own cries. To have your life change in the blink of an eye. To discover your reality was nothing but lies. Do you know it feels to want someone to blame? To find yourself alone when you’re in the greatest of pain. To shed a river of tears at the mention of a name. To realize that from this day forward, things will never be the same. Do you know how it feels to learn that your best wasn’t enough? For someone you love to violate your trust. To find out those words were just the cold-hearted bluffs. To accept that the future holds no more promises for us. Do you know how it feels to make a fresh start? And to keep a smile on your face, even after your whole world has fell apart.
In life, we do things. Some, we wish we had never done, and some we wish we could replay a million times. But they make us who we are, and in the end, they shape and detail us. If we were to reserve them, we wouldn’t be the person we are today. So just live. Make mistakes and have wonderful memories. But never for a second regret who you are, where you’ve been, and most importantly, where you’re going.
I’ve always had a really strong feeling that out there somewhere, is someone who would not just put up with my personality, but would actively like it. He would engourage me. He’d be somebody who doesn’t enjoy the neutral beige of my mother’s decorating. He’d be somebody who likes neon plaid. Polka dots. Pink with red. I knew it would be a long wait, but that’s okay. I’m a patient girl. But I guess the truth is, I let myself hope a tiny bit that maybe, somehow, ironically, that person could possibly be you.
Nobody knows the real me. Nobody knows how many times I’ve sat in my room cried, how many times I’ve lost hope, how many times I’ve been let down. Nobody knows how many times I’ve had to hold back the tears, how many times I’ve felt like I’m about to snap but don’t just for the sake of others. Nobody knows the thoughts that go through my head whenever I’d sad, how horrible they truly are. Nobody knows me and that’s what I hate the most.
That’s why it didn’t work. My life won’t end if I never see you again. You didn’t go crazy at night thinking of me; at least, I don’t think so. You didn’t run across traffic to talk to me, or make a fool of yourself ever. You didn’t know my favorite color or what kept me up at night, unable to fall asleep. You didn’t know what to say if I was upset, not that you would’ve known. We never talked about anything significant. Nothing that anyone else wouldn’t care to know. And you certainly never would have loved me. You were just a boy who was alone for a while and found someone who had no clue what she was doing with her life.
Growing up back then had its perks. We watched great television and learned how computers worked. But before you dismiss us as a shallow sugary cereal generation, take a look at our life education. You may have seen your president get shot, but we see brutal violence in our school parking lots. You came out of Vietnam with a few heroes, but there were a lot of deaths at ground zero. You were judged by your color and race, but that was before school shootings took place. So life may have been tough back in 1967, but was it worse than seeing what happened on 9/11. Was the media pumping you with fear all the time? Harvard was a famous school not columbine. And no one knew what mad cow disease was. You fought battles overseas but we fight ones with ourselves daily. So next time you think you’re traumatized and real, we’ll be in the bathroom throwing up our meals.
I’m never going to show you how broken I am inside. I am never going to show you how I need you in my life. You’ll never hear me say that I miss you or find out that you’re the reason that I cry. You’ll never catch me, because you’ll never see me fall. I’m just going to keep everything inside and smile through all the pain, and even though I’m breaking down, I’ll always manage to stay sane. I’ll never show you what you want to see. I’m never going to let you see through me.
You’re bored of cheering me up. Bored of calming me down. Bored of drying my eyes. But there once was a time when you were the one. You were the blue of the sky, you came after the storm. You were the switch on the wall, in the dark of the hall, I’m still fumbling for.
The people I admire are the people who carved a life for themselves after their dream died.
