Every fucked up thing that goes on in my life.
Now on display for your viewing purposes!
I secretly like my other blog better:
I’m a sucker for indie rom-drams. I really am.
And, while I cry at all the appropriate times (I am a fucking girl, after all), this movie destroyed my heart. Because I can relate.
I don’t know why I’m writing about it. I’m not reviewing it, or anything. I’m just thinking about it. About how I fall in and out of love but sometimes I know it’s not love, and sometimes I don’t.
I fall in infatuation pretty hard, and pretty fast, and pretty deep.
I once loved a man, for many years. In and out of any other relationship I had, he was there. For me, or for him. When we were lonely, we’d gravitate towards each other. He lived far. Not very far, but far enough. Occasionally we’d see each other. It started when I was young (too young for him, in fact).
He knows my dark secrets more than anyone; maybe even more than anyone that’s read this blog. He knows about every man, every heartache, every one night stand, every fuck up. He knows me.
He knew me.
We no longer speak, anymore.
I’m 21. He’s 28. I’ve known him since I was fifteen; loved him since I was 18. He’s loved me forever, he said.
And we were beautiful. Sometimes.
And others, we were strained. He told me once, that sometimes he hates me. He told me that I only want him when I’m alone. That I toy with him. That I’m a bitch. That I’m a whore. That I’m disgusting. That I make him cry. That I was beautiful. That I was perfect. That I was miserable. That I make him miserable. That I should marry him. That I was his.
We’ve both moved on, now. We’re older. He’s with someone. I’m always with someone else. I haven’t spoken to him in around 6 months.
I think about him, from time to time. We would’ve never worked. I know this. He knows this.
I don’t know where I’m going with this. I just… I’m nostalgic, today.
IF YOU DON’T KNOW THIS SONG, YOU’RE NOT AN 90’S CHILD
Didn’t recognize it at first but then
and now I’m dancing around my room
didnt recognize it until the chorus :)
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.