Wednesday, June 13, 2012

When you heart is pouring out but you don't know what to do.

I'm just so screwed up with everything going on. With the amount of rush I get during catching teachers and fishing for my grades, and the shakiness of my hands when you're around. It's no longer a crush I'm developing, but I don't know what. It's that intense feeling that's spreading like a lethal plague on a small city with a population of two hundred. You think it's love, but it's not. You think you don't care, but you can't, because the feeling is /literally/ eating your heart out and cutting it into pieces before chewing it all in. Ugh. I'm a mess. I wish I could just sit down and grab a glass of vanilla stoli. I don't know how it would taste in your buds but depressed people enjoy them very.

Another thing is I don't want to ruin the amazing, fanta-bulous relationship that we built brick by brick, with some of the excess hormone that I haven't burnt off in the gym by running it all or flexing it during yoga. It's just life's too precious to give the moment a pause and rewind and play and rewind and play and back and forth all over again. I know we never touched hands before and my stomach went whirlwind every time you catch a simple glimpse of me that means nothing, nothing in this world because you had your time and your girl and your moments and I'm just so fed up sitting here, listening to the same sappy love song about how I've loved you for a thousand year long when truthfully I don't think it's love and it's actually not that long, doing nothing. Practically nothing because there's nothing I can do and you're so damn distant for me, even though we go head-to-head every single day. 

I'm not exactly waiting because I don't know what am I waiting for. I'm not exactly desperate because I'm not entirely sad because you're always gone. I'm not exactly confused because I know what to do. I'm just... Tired? No, because I'm not in that point yet.

Anyway, despite the insanity and the malady I'm in, all I want you to know is that I have a seven-words sentence silently knocking mouth, waiting for my gut to send a signal to my lips when I'm ready to say it. But thank you lord, my fingers are the most brave organ ever so... Here it goes; I need you so much, it hurts.


No comments:

Post a Comment