Hurt me

The hurt is the best part of being alive.  So many people try and avoid it because it makes them feel too much, I do quite the opposite.  I run to it with outstretched arms.  I embrace it like the sun in winter.  I roll through it like leaves in the fall.
Anything that can make you feel so deeply should be an experience that requires waiting in a line for over an hour.  Where you ask your friends if they want to join you and even if they say no you head down yourself alone.  You stand with strangers, nervous in your gut but so excited you can’t keep still.
The list of things that people do to themselves that have a terrible effect on their bodies isn’t endless but its enough to fill both hands.  The list of emotions we let in to feel can be balanced on a few fingertips.  We would rather hurt ourselves then feel.  I’d rather feel the hurt than anything else.
Tell me you love someone else after I said I need you.  I’ll smile through it that I made it that far.  Leave me a note saying you can’t stay any longer and disappear from my life forever.  I’ll put it away someplace special and admire the curves of your handwriting whenever I miss you.  I want to hear anything you have to say that’s going to make my heart ache and my soul collapse as long as the words are for me.
I would rather feel like my world is falling apart and nothing will ever be the same again then stuck in a room with white walls and a chair and nothing else.  I would rather look at you for the last time then never see you at all.  Make the pain felt so intense that I can feel everything rather then staring blankly and feeling nothing.
The hurt is the best part of being alive because the hurt means we are alive.  Feeling nothing you might as well be dead.  Being in love is the only hallucinogen I need to see things that aren’t there or miss things I don’t have.  Hurt me.  Make me feel something.  Indulge my pain a little longer.

Futile

Him:  Why can’t we just go back to how we used to be?  I don’t even recognize that anymore.

THAT Her: Because we can’t.  Ever.  It’s gone.

Him:  Why does it have to be gone?  Nothing ever has to be gone, all you have to do is say it isn’t gone and treat it like its right here.

THAT Her:  It’s gone.  Face it.  It is so hard to bring back a feeling that has faded.  It’s impossible to make one go away that’s replaced it.

Him:  Nothing is impossible if we want it to be.  I don’t think you want it to be when it can be so simple. Continue reading

A little bit of nothing

Mud splattered all along her ankles and shins.  Her dress peppered with the dried muck as well as she stands there with her shoulders slumped and her neck looking like it can barely hold the weight of her head due to the entirety of her exhaustion.  She smile on her face is still bright.  Brighter than the sun even as she looks down the hill.  The walk was long and crossed patches of mud that could swallow a herd of cows.  The sun beat down like a desert but she continued to smile in the fresh air and the outdoors.  Her exhaustion was sought and she found it and hugged it with all of her might.  To finish off her day she collapsed in the cutest fashion imaginable.  She just dropped under a tree.  Splayed out like a chalk sketch of a murder victim that her adventure claimed.  The shade covering her sun and heat doused body and the sweat started to cool in the breeze.  But the smile remained.  The smile wouldn’t fade.  It was tattooed on her face and wasn’t going to drop simply because her adventure was over.

Can’t help it

It is really funny how I read each message at least twice.  You aren’t even talking to me but I read them all at least twice.  I scroll and re-read the ones I know I’ve already seen but I can’t help myself.  I read the messages from others to you and follow along on the conversations.  A voyeur is the best I can be.  Watching and smiling at your smiles.  Laughing at your laughs.  An eavesdropper if there ever was one.  You are the maestro of my mood and it lifts and falls at the wave of your hand.  I change whenever you’re around and I can’t help it.

Read to me

Lazily sprawl yourself on the couch with a book in your hands;

dress at a minimum

exposed skin

eyes on the page

lips at the ready

And read to me with a voice that’s experienced the words;

pause where you’ve been touched

gasp when you’ve been tasted

inhale when you remember their scent

help me experience it through your words

Tease me with your limbs and your lips;

stretch your legs out long

roll your tongue and

purr your lips

but hold your arms tight as you grip the pages

Read to me as you lay half naked across the room;

make my pulse quicken

my eyes focus

my back straighten

and my breath stop.

That thing you do

Do you know that thing that you do?
That thing with your mouth.
When you’re looking at something that you really want.
I’ve noticed it. I’ve noticed a lot but this in particular.
That thing where your lips part and you slowly in hale.
Then they close again tight.
It controls your entire upper body.
Your eyes close and your head leans back.
Your shoulders lift.
I want to be the thing that makes you do that.

 

Obsessions

I don’t know what exactly it is that I want from a girl.  I feel like I want so many things but nothing for sure.  I have so many different sides and a lot of them contradict each other.  I want to have adventurous sex with all kinds of women while at the same time being a hopeless romantic and wanting to fall in love.  I want to enjoy all of the colors of rainbow but find a special someone to have and hold.  Is this just a common thing that adults have to figure out which they want and stick to it?  Always regretting the choice they left behind?

My ramblings questions have a point.  The point is about a girl.  Her name is Nicole and I think I might be in love with her. Continue reading