I’m in love with you!
I know that’s not a nice way to start whatever this will end up to be but there it is. I’m in love with you. I fell in my own trap, my trick, my rule, my promise… I broke it. I was never supposed to end up this way, you know?! In love… I don’t normally do this, the falling in love thing. Cuz I got my heart broken, my head, my spirit, my smile, everything. And I had to build myself up, and be my own friend and adviser concerning my life. I got to use people just to feel alive. I became more shallow than I ever knew I could be. I made a façade for myself and then made myself believe in it. For three years, I’ve been using that mask just to get attention, to never get the chance to be alone and remember the hurting. They’ve touched me with their hands and kissed me with their lips, they’ve pushed their hips on me and I felt disgusted. I never could get through with it. I always kicked them out; out of my room, my bed, my head, my arms. Maybe I lost some good ones, but I never cared.
I’ve been to the bottom of my sadness and I survived. That’s why I made this rule. No falling in love. Because when I do, I fall like a comet: I crash and burn. I never did the whole dating a friend thing either but I always supposed that it would be the perfect combination, you know, friend and lover. I never wanted it for me, though. Because I never wanted a perfect combination, I never intended to develop some feelings for someone.
I forgot to remember that for three years all that I searched was attention, and not affection. Even though I engineered myself into a cold hearted bitch, I never could play my part properly, at least not anymore. My body craved affection, my brain was dying for some honest contradictions with my heart. And I got that with you, I never planned to like you, I never even planned for you to like me! But you took my face in your hands, you looked into my eyes and you told me that you see my good soul, something that no one, ever, even bothered to look for in me.
When having one of our getting-to-know-each-other conversations, I once told you that the only thing I ever really, really wanted was for me to be happy. You gave your best and you made this happen. You made “the good” happen, but then you wanted to make the good better and you lost me on the way. And I’m not happy, beib…
I’m in love and I feel rejected and misunderstood, forgotten and underappreciated. It’s like I’m trying sooo hard to be on the same page with you, that I keep forgetting that we are two different books altogether. And I’m a wreck, I know this much; I know that I’ll need a lot more loving than I imagined to make me “normal” again. Maybe we’re not enough. Maybe somewhere between you not holding me in your arms in public and me not telling you all the necessary details in order to clarify interpretations, we lost each other. In the same time, I lost myself in you, and I want more. Maybe what you’re willing to give me right now, is not enough to fill the emptiness inside of me. I’m becoming sad over something that makes me happy. And it’s not right.
The next step would be “change” and I don’t want that. I don’t want to change you, I don’t want to lose myself for the sake of us, I don’t want you to change for me… even though it’s quite obvious that you wouldn’t change for no one, especially not for me. I always believed that when you have to change someone in order to create something remotely close to a picture-perfect relationship, that shit is not going to be real, ever!
So I’m gonna stop feeling.
Can you believe that I actually had that “Te iubesc!” on my lips twice the other day? Fuck it, beib! Me? So soon? ME? In love? Me? I’m so confused! I don’t know if this is really happening or if I’m lying to myself. But I bit my lips, I kept it to myself. It wasn’t the time. It never is for me…
So I’m gonna stop. I don’t want to lose what we were before I broke the promise we made. I’ll try not to care, you know… I’ll stop. Maybe this is me giving up, I never wanted to end up here. It’s just that I sometimes find myself sitting next to you and asking “What am I here for?”, and I never get the answer… So I’ll stop, I’ll stop asking.
I’ll stop writing too, beib.