rawrrr (:

i don’t get how i can face him again.  i don’t feel good enough.  and that feeling disgusts me, because i’m a perfectionist and i strive for the best and i’m used to being pursued and on top and god, i sound like such an arrogant bitch.  

i can admit to that though.  i have pride.  maybe that’s hindering me in some way.  

actually.  i know it is.  being friends after being rejected… i don’t understand how people do it.  i feel so fucking ashamed when i see him.  like the habitual wave of happiness quickly drowned by a wave of nausea.  ”you’re not good enough” -his presence taunts me. 

and i can’t handle it.  i can be friends with other ex’s cause i’m the one who initiated the breakup.  it’s funny cause we weren’t even together and i feel as hurt as if we were.   and i suppose i was the one to push this idea that we should just be friends because i didn’t feel like i had a chance.  i didn’t feel like trying my hardest and putting myself out there only to be rejected.  although i let him know how much he’s hurting me… which is essentially doing the same thing, but i made it clear that i was withdrawing. 

i feel so fucking sick.  i wanna stay in here forever and never see him again.   and yet i do.  

it’s fucking torture every time i leave my room.  he’s living in the same complex as me, and i see what a mistake it was to allow myself to become so close to him.  the distinguishable creaking of his door makes me want to walk and catch a glimpse of him…yet at the same time, while i’m walking through the halls, the same creak makes me startle and my heart races as my brain tugs my legs to move faster, my heart begging for them to slow down.  i’m overwhelmed by this feeling of hopeless obsession.  i want a last goodbye.  it didn’t register within me with that last hug we shared.  the last time we saw each other, i was filled with disgust.  at both myself and him.  and taken aback yet again at how hurt i felt.  i immediately numbed the pain with a smile, clutching at my dusty mask that i didn’t think i needed around him.  i couldn’t get out of that suffocating air his aura seemed to produce fast enough.  

i should’ve seen it coming.  i did see it coming.  i denied the knowing and this is what i get.  the facts are in front of you -he was the one who taught you that.  that things are probably exactly the way they seem and for some reason, i still fell for his blackhole of lies.  he denies using me. maybe he really did care for me… but i keep thinking about the times he’d pull me into the study room and do stuff and then leave.  

and i’m so fucking stupid for trusting him.  so incredibly fucking stupid.  i feel waves of disgust mixed with my cravings to talk to him.  but i’m sure i’ll get over it.  he’s a mere freshman after all.  

but.  i honestly don’t know if we can stay friends.  i oddly trusted him, in a way i’m even surprised to admit.  i absolutely loved being with him when he wasn’t being sexual…which is how friends are supposed to be, right?  except i loved the sweet things he did as well, the little nicknames he called me.  the way he’d tilt my chin up and kiss me.  how he could just lift me up and carry me to places.  i loved the passionate moments we’d share in a three floor elevator ride, and the glances he’d steal when we’re in the same room together with other dorm friends.  i loved how he’d always walk me back to my room, and always ask if i’m okay.  and know when it’s a lie.  i loved how willingly he opened up to me, and how he let me tend to the wounds he’d give himself.  

but i suppose he’s better now.  

he doesn’t need me. 

and i suppose that’s my down fall again.  i open up slightly, and encourage the other person to open up.  and then i’d get scared at how close we’re getting and push them away.  and i guess what really hurts is how close he got inside of me.  he knew me more than anyone i ever knew.  he understood the constant act i showed the world.  he made labels about different things, my “christine noises”, and “obscene happiness”, and the way he noticed things and made fun of me was actually quite adorable.  

and he was determined and stubborn and pursued me.  and i turned a blind eye at how hard he was trying cause i was still hurt about the other things he said.  about how he was just opening up to me because i had his ex’s eyes.  how he only does stuff to people he doesn’t care about.  the ways he was much too aggressive and has actually physically hurt me.  he has a very dominating personality, which can actually be quite scary. 

i didn’t realize i was the type to hold grudges.

but the things he said were probably truths.  and he was so refreshingly honest that the things he said actually made me want him more. 

fuck.  i’m so fucking stupid.  so fucking fucking fucking stupid.  i keep pushing all these good guys away.  

beautyinshakespeare:

The thing is, it’s you that I can’t get off my mind. It’s you that makes my heart beat faster and slower at the same time. It’s your arms that I want to wake up every morning wrapped in. It’s your kiss that makes me stop breathing. It’s also you that I’m too afraid to tell all of this. It’s you, the first person in a long time I’ve actually been afraid of saying no to me. I want you. Thats about it really.

for four short months, we’ve played this game of exchanging words of brutal honesty, and calling each other out on this facade we show to the world.  i started opening up to him, and right when i start falling, he’d pull the carpet from beneath me, and upturn my world.  he’d bring up and talk about a new girl, flaunt her in my face and tease me with what conversations about the things they have done.  and i stood by and let it happen, acting as if it didn’t bother me. 

and i suppose i overestimated his power -his capability to read people.  to read me, specifically.  i wanted him to bend first, i wanted him to push our relationship forward and define “us”.  i wanted him to know, what i felt inside -stuff i didn’t even want to admit myself.  

and when the girl was out of the picture, he revealed his exaggerations and lies that i whole-heartedly believed.  and i was at a loss at what to trust.  it was a cold shower for my muddled brain -a call to stop taking things for it’s face value.  especially when it comes to him -this beautiful soul who’s perfected the art of lying.  i became more and more aware of him, and learned to be able to find contradictions in the tales that he told.  i could follow more and more easily the time line of his life.  i felt like i was truly getting to know him.  and in turn, he me. 

and his attitude shifted yet again.  the time we spent together didn’t seem as treasured anymore.  i could sense his interest waning -he kept getting side tracked, and i didn’t really do anything about it.  i could feel him fading from my grasp, and i just watched him slip away.  i was pissed at myself for letting him affect me so much, pissed at him for making me realize how much he meant to me.  and pissed for wanting him so badly.  

and so i deemed him a danger to me.  and i guess i made the unconscious decision to let him slip away.  cause i didnt want him in the way that he seemed to want me.  and i couldn’t trust him after all his lies, and all the ways he’s manipulated and surprised me.  

and he’s running again, to yet another girl.  and this time, i’m drawing the line.  this time, i won’t put myself in a position of vulnerability,  i’m going to take action and push him away.  i’m going to cut him out of my life.  or at least cease communication with him.

cause i hurt.  i hurt so so badly.  tears keep flowing into my eyes and my throat keeps closing and my chest keeps squeezing and i want to crawl into a ball and just bawl.  and yet at the same time… all i want to do is run to him, and grab him and give him a huge hug and tell him to be mine.  

shit, this is gonna be f’in tough. 

i’ve never seen anyone so broken before.  seen him so broken.  as we talked about his future, his body just crumpled and fell hard against mine.  i held him steady as he cried against me, for the first time in years.  all the people around us were shut out and we were in our own mini world of pain and hurt and disappointment for a long moment.  til the beautifully sad illusion was shattered by his ex-love’s voice.  ”come stand up, let’s get out of the way”.  always one for precedence, and rule, and not making a scene, she cajoled us out of that tumbling quicksand of depression and his us away behind the walls of his room.  there he just broke, but it was her he heavily leaned on.  tears continuously falling, and his body shook with realization of The Letter, and all i could do was watch.  i became their messenger.  i became an outsider to their little world, their little moment —a mere audience to their sickeningly intimate scene. 

and i felt hurt.  and depressed.  the disappointment that flooded out of his was absorbed by me and i felt the heaviness of the news as real as if it were me.  it was all i can do to keep myself from sneaking away and hugging and kissing and comforting and snuggling him.  kinda stupid to think that i had that power within me.  

i want him to feel better.  he’s one of those nice guys who is completely head over heels over the wrong girl.  and he realizes how bad she is, and yet still continues to push for her love just the same.  and his beautiful brown eyes reflect his being -they’re filled with compassion and hope and wantings of only the best for everyone.  and to see that compassion melted away and crashing to the ground with his tears was painful to watch.  his face, always so readily posed for a quick smile was contorted into a rare look of utter hopelessness, his lips upturned with despair.  his gentle hands were clawing at the cloth of her shirt, leaving wrinkles of fury.  

i wished more than anything to be her.  i wanted to be the body that absorbed the tears, the one he pushed his face into for comfort.  i wanted to be the one to tilt his head up and give him a kiss.  i wanted to be the one to stroke his hair and tell him everything will be alright and change his despaired heart into one of hope and desire.  

and that desire to be desired by him doesnt make sense.