He once said:
"You and me against the world."
I like the sound of that. Most of all, the idea of it.
As the dark took over my room,
Thoughts of him took over me.
I couldn't really tell if losing him is despairing or if really, it seemed more surreal to even have a reaction to. Blurry like a fog or a haze. Again this seems familiar to me, how it started and how the ending would turn out to be. Just this time, oddly of me to, I choose to wait. Wait and see, wait and try, wait if it would change until the day this invisible huge sign aiming at me to get over it and move on hits me. I could if I wanted to, but I don't. Not today, not this time and not this week. I don't want to block things that willingly land into my mind, out. I'm not in with moving on and sweeping the thought of it under the carpet. I feel drained out of all my energy to stay focus. Yet the more I let myself be, the more constant his being and distant memories come back to me. Maybe not at all distant, just at one point, put aside. Everything is rushing through my head unexpectedly. Still, I don't have a say to it. I let things in, I get attach, they walk out. I gave out the rules, now I abhor every rule I laid out. This person, I never wanted it to go to waste. I wanted us, it seemed like the only thing I had control over, the only thing that was up to me to decide because one way or another no matter how many times it had hurt, it gave me the slightest bit of hope, the kind of happiness I don't want to lose again. He kept me sane. Now I'm afloat.
The first few times I thought of the pain that was absent each time we part, and how it must have been, maybe if not anything else, the feeling that were never there. The kind only he felt but presence never seen on my side. It grew on me the idea of how it couldn't have been that, in fact maybe we were without our own acknowledgement, are just, simply, comfortable. Mild or modest. With that it makes more sense of how holding his hands felt, it felt what it felt. There were hands I held that felt right but not quite, some felt wrong, even cold, sometimes forceful. With my hands in his, it felt like I understood the meaning of those cheesy comics I once couldn't stop reading while still in primary school: the warmth of hands bigger than yours, you just want to kiss those hands that at every moment it held you, makes you feel secure, wanted, loved and safe. I'll always love how we do it. The smirks and barely audible giggles every time one or another grabs either one's hand. How his smell lingers around I could just dig my face into his chest and let the moment freeze. Most of all is how we look at each other, how could you forget or not even once imagine how you look like from above of how a person stares right into your eyes as you do to theirs and as if something were about to happened, we wouldn't let it so I laugh a bit and look away. How when on escalators you just want to lean your head against his shoulders and kiss it or when he could be a step below you, talking or doing nothing at all making you have this sudden strong urge to just screech then tell him of how cute he is you could just kiss his adorable face, dip him in peanut butter and eat him up.
I would trade just about anything for us to lasts. I was reaching that point where I wouldn't mind going anywhere as long as it would be with him and I know how stupid that sounds for someone like me but I can't deny. I was already at that point. Waiting for us to grow older, still together, and if ever anyone says anything to go against it I could be able to say I would know, because I know him better and he knows me and I find that what we have is more important than what anyone has to say about it because when two people are together, really together as one, for enough time to really get to know and learn each other, despite having bestfriends or family members they should be the one to know each other the best. I'd want and love that. To be someone significant enough for once, and for all sincerely, without doubt, become someone's everything. Because I know for sure that if he let me, he would be my everything. He might already be.
How do you expect me to cope with that?
I can't figure it out yet. I don't think I really want to.
I'm okay with still having thoughts of us.
"You and me against the world."
I like the sound of that. Most of all, the idea of it.
As the dark took over my room,
Thoughts of him took over me.
I couldn't really tell if losing him is despairing or if really, it seemed more surreal to even have a reaction to. Blurry like a fog or a haze. Again this seems familiar to me, how it started and how the ending would turn out to be. Just this time, oddly of me to, I choose to wait. Wait and see, wait and try, wait if it would change until the day this invisible huge sign aiming at me to get over it and move on hits me. I could if I wanted to, but I don't. Not today, not this time and not this week. I don't want to block things that willingly land into my mind, out. I'm not in with moving on and sweeping the thought of it under the carpet. I feel drained out of all my energy to stay focus. Yet the more I let myself be, the more constant his being and distant memories come back to me. Maybe not at all distant, just at one point, put aside. Everything is rushing through my head unexpectedly. Still, I don't have a say to it. I let things in, I get attach, they walk out. I gave out the rules, now I abhor every rule I laid out. This person, I never wanted it to go to waste. I wanted us, it seemed like the only thing I had control over, the only thing that was up to me to decide because one way or another no matter how many times it had hurt, it gave me the slightest bit of hope, the kind of happiness I don't want to lose again. He kept me sane. Now I'm afloat.
The first few times I thought of the pain that was absent each time we part, and how it must have been, maybe if not anything else, the feeling that were never there. The kind only he felt but presence never seen on my side. It grew on me the idea of how it couldn't have been that, in fact maybe we were without our own acknowledgement, are just, simply, comfortable. Mild or modest. With that it makes more sense of how holding his hands felt, it felt what it felt. There were hands I held that felt right but not quite, some felt wrong, even cold, sometimes forceful. With my hands in his, it felt like I understood the meaning of those cheesy comics I once couldn't stop reading while still in primary school: the warmth of hands bigger than yours, you just want to kiss those hands that at every moment it held you, makes you feel secure, wanted, loved and safe. I'll always love how we do it. The smirks and barely audible giggles every time one or another grabs either one's hand. How his smell lingers around I could just dig my face into his chest and let the moment freeze. Most of all is how we look at each other, how could you forget or not even once imagine how you look like from above of how a person stares right into your eyes as you do to theirs and as if something were about to happened, we wouldn't let it so I laugh a bit and look away. How when on escalators you just want to lean your head against his shoulders and kiss it or when he could be a step below you, talking or doing nothing at all making you have this sudden strong urge to just screech then tell him of how cute he is you could just kiss his adorable face, dip him in peanut butter and eat him up.
I would trade just about anything for us to lasts. I was reaching that point where I wouldn't mind going anywhere as long as it would be with him and I know how stupid that sounds for someone like me but I can't deny. I was already at that point. Waiting for us to grow older, still together, and if ever anyone says anything to go against it I could be able to say I would know, because I know him better and he knows me and I find that what we have is more important than what anyone has to say about it because when two people are together, really together as one, for enough time to really get to know and learn each other, despite having bestfriends or family members they should be the one to know each other the best. I'd want and love that. To be someone significant enough for once, and for all sincerely, without doubt, become someone's everything. Because I know for sure that if he let me, he would be my everything. He might already be.
How do you expect me to cope with that?
I can't figure it out yet. I don't think I really want to.
I'm okay with still having thoughts of us.
-riri-
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