When she looked in his eyes it was like she’d discovered the cosmos again. They’d been through all this before. They’d been through the relationship. She wasn't sure if she wanted to do it again. Because of her friends, and because of the relationship she’d just gotten out of. He was a boy she loved very much. She still loved him. He was the only one she’d ever felt this way about. She felt like it would last forever. He was tall, had the most gorgeous eyes, and the best hair. He made her feel so special and sexy and loved. Then they had a fight. They hadn't exactly been getting along. They weren't fighting, but they weren't talking. About two weeks later, he decided he didn't love her anymore. She was crushed. She’d talked to him the night before. He’d assured her that he still wanted to be with her. Then the next night, he sent her an e mail saying that he couldn't go out with her anymore. Just like that. And online too. He hurt her. He’d hurt her pretty damn bad. She felt the pangs when she went to school the next morning. Now here she sits, writing this and looking at the only "man" she’d ever been with. He was tall, dark, muscular, and handsome. He was a senior and pretty much out of her league.
She had so many thoughts running in and out of her mind: Was it the weed that ruined our relationship? Do I need to move on? Should I wait for him? Should I talk to him? Should I have said the things I said? How will this affect all the friendships I have? What the hell am I going to do? Should I even be worrying about it this much? Is he thinking about me?
From all these questions, she concluded that she needed to move on, but at a pace she could handle. He was never coming back to her, and she shouldn’t stress over it. Then another final realization: This was about her. Not him. This was her life. He couldn't control it. Even if it was only in her mind, he was the best boyfriend she’d ever had. It was everything she thought would last. But it didn't. It didn't last and she needed to accept that. Stop thinking about him and move on. That was exactly what she intended to do.
Sometimes you just have to break down and let it all out, feeling the pain. Maybe you’re hurting, maybe you’re crying, but we can all deal. Smoke your cigars, feeling the pain, of losing that love. Salty tears he would have kissed off your cheek. But he’s gone. Watch the snow and feel the rain. Deal with the loss. Move on.
The guitar with a sound so pure accompanying a voice so raw.
Making me think of his body, his eyes, his mouth, his taste,
His depth, his feel.
All so right.
The thought makes me ache for his touch.
I yearn for his kiss, his look, the way he fills me whole
They show you "love" in the movies, on the big, fake silver screen where no one is real. They only do it for money. No one does anything for honor anymore. It’s all a race for the cash. But they never show the anger and the hate and the bad that ends it all. There’s always that happy ending. When everything turns out okay. That’s not the real world. It all ends in despair and betrayal.
I miss him more than words can say. I miss the way he holds me, the way our hands fit together so perfectly. I miss the way he loved me. I miss his touch, his smile, the look he’d get in his eyes when he was happy. I miss the way his stomach felt under my palm. I miss the way he kissed me most every time we were together. I miss the way he held me in his arms when I sat beside him. I miss the way I felt when I saw him anywhere near. The way I felt when he kissed my neck. The way he used to come up behind me at my locker and put his hands on my waist. I miss the way I could tell him everything. I miss the feel of his arms, his skin against mine. His muscular back and arms, he held me so right. I want to break into tears every time I see him. Whenever I’m with somebody else, it’s never the same. They never hold me just right. They’re not him. Every time I see his eyes, his wonderful greenish hazel eyes. They’re not even a definite color, but they had such depth, and I guess they still do, I just never get to see it. I would still do anything for him. Anything at all. Any other guy, I’d just get pissed and forget all the good. But I loved him all the more. Even when he broke it off, he still looked so perfect. And he never pushed me. Never would. He wanted what I wanted. And when he told me he still loved me, a feeling rushed through my body . A tingling, hot sensation. I felt my face flush red with embarrassment and surprise. At that very moment I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I miss all the things he used to say. All the little things too. He owns my soul, and will for a long time. I’d drop everything just to be with him. He means the world to me and I’ll always want him back.
(p.s. I finally got over that one ::grins::)
Looking over her right shoulder - as she often did - she saw him. The angel that had freed her soul, the angel that hated her. How her stomach churned. She missed him so much it hurt. The guilt came all the time, because she was a hypocrite. The pain because she still needed him. He was the one that made her forget the world. He made her feel normal. They went out with big groups of friends living and loving life. Those were the two most carefree months of her life. He still chilled with "the group," but she couldn’t. They reminded her of him and how it was and how she ruined it. The things she’d said out of anger and hurt. She’d changed so much since then. It’s been almost four months since she’s kissed him. He wasn’t the best, but at least he was real. He’d made her feel alive, he’d showed her what it was not to worry, not to care. Then she scared him off. The instant the words came from her lips, she regretted them, because she knew it was only headed down hill from there.
The most beautiful boy in the world is standing outside the door across the hall. He had spiked orange hair, an O in his right earlobe and two thick earrings in the other. He wore punk clothes and lots of rings and necklaces and bracelets. He was built wonderfully and walked with a bounce. He had a way of making anyone he talked to feel special - like they were the only person in the world. He had this cute way of playing with the rings on his left hand when he was nervous, or deep in thought. She could watch him for hours. He was the most beautiful boy in the world.
There is only one way to know if the love he has for you is real. I haven’t found it, and the people that have found it can’t explain. You are the only one that will ever know. You must know it in your heart and you mind, but also know that men and women change. Their feelings change as well. When he said he loved you before, he very well may have. But if it’s been a long time since he made you feel loved, the magic may be gone. That’s life.
There are no steps I wouldn’t take to be with you again. If there was a way to change you back to the person you were before, I’d do it. The person you were is not the person you are. You were perfect.
Perfection never lasts forever.
They say it wouldn’t work. And they’re right. It wouldn’t work in the long run. We’d just end this wonderful friendship we have now. You’re great and I love you. Yet love seems to ruin so many relationships because it’s looked at wrong. Nobody knows what true eternal love is. Not even Romeo and Juliet.
The thing that gives you love gives you inspiration. That inspiration expresses the one true love of the heart. Never write from your mind. Write from your soul.
The element of love will never truly be discovered. It matters not the time of day, the place, or what you’re doing. It matters only what you feel.
When she looked in his eyes it was like getting lost in the deepest ocean, swimming with intellect, care, love, joy, and understanding. Those eyes were all she needed to live. Without them, she was nothing. He was perfect in every way
So that was my little contribution to love. Feel free to check out the rest of my stuff here