My bed is fucken empty
the room smells like liquor
you’re probably on the phone
tellin’ some other bitch you miss her
the night is cold & new baby just like me
I just want you to know that I’ll be
there for the fall
cause when you’re comin’ down
you won’t forget
I’m the baddest one around
You get to a certain point where you accept your fate with love. You accept the fact no one will ever come around and alter your feelings again and you swallow your confusion and self hatred and move on with your life as best as you can. For years now I thought something was wrong with me. I couldn’t get over my first love and he had a hold on me like no one would ever believe. I was petrified and distraught with my emotions and how I couldn’t control them. I was scared and convinced something was wrong with me because I couldn’t fall out of love with him. I’m almost 20 years old, it was 4 years ago. I hated myself for not being able to step away from everything that happened with us. He still came to my thoughts in the middle of the night. When I said “I love you” to the person I was with after him. When I was in bed with anyone else. My feelings were choking me to death and I knew I had a problem. I felt stuck and pathetic. There’s this one saying
“When you meet that certain someone, you just know.”
I thought I knew. Boy, was I wrong.
It took me four years to meet the right one. To meet the one who would make me feel like I was normal. To make me feel what love really is. I wasn’t pathetic because I couldn’t get over the one I fell for first. I wasn’t weak and he had no control on me to begin with. I just thought I was pathetic, I just thought I was weak, I just thought he had control.
These past four years have been difficult. Some easier than most, and he wasn’t on my mind all day everyday, but I thought about him a lot. More than once a week. I didn’t love him, I loved who I thought he was.
But I love you. I love who I know you are.
I love me. I love who I know I am.
I love us.
I learned a very important thing recently.
It doesn’t matter who your first love was, it matters who you fall in love with last.
“Just allow myself to get lost in you”
I said it over and over in my head that night when we were alone in the pitch black hotel room on the seventh floor. It was that easy. It’s almost as if the thought never crossed my mind. I wanted to touch you in ways I haven’t touched anyone before. I wanted to scratch my nails down your back and wake up the whole floor. I didn’t care who knew or who was bothered. I can still feel the soft words and strong grasps. I can still taste the alcohol on our mouths. I can still see the room spinning.
Let’s spin again.
My sheets were smooth and cold against my skin but my body was warmer than it had ever been. You sat at the edge of my bed and I was afraid to say anything in fear of sounding like I was trying to bring you down with me, because I wasn’t. That was never my intention. I sat there biting my lip so damn hard I thought it might fall off all together or eventually rip to shreds. It was quiet on the outside but in my head I could barely hear myself think. I missed my brother, I was confused about myself, you were leaving soon and I hated to accept the fact that I actually liked you more than I ever thought I would. Do I miss when I was questioning things with you? In a sick and twisted way, maybe. Maybe I do. Though I was unsure I was sure about one thing and that was that I didn’t want it enough to be with you so I had to step back. Now all I’m questioning is how could this have happened to me? How could I possibly allow myself to fall for you when it’s clear this isn’t going to work out? Should I be questioning it? Probably not. If there’s anything I’ve learned recently it’s to let certain things happen. Don’t fight things from happening naturally. If you feel it, feel it. Don’t fight it. I’m not entirely positive on whether or not I’m scared or blind to these emotions quite yet but I hope I find out sooner or later. I wrapped the blanket around me so it snuggled directly underneath my chin and you held me for a couple minutes until I didn’t allow you to comfort me any longer. Most things I have to handle by myself. This was one of those situations. I sat up and massaged each side of the bridge of my nose with my pointer finger and my thumb in odd circular motions while I thought about how the fuck I could even begin to explain to you what was going on through my head. You kept telling me everything was okay and that I wasn’t bothering you and maybe I wasn’t, but I was bothering myself. In this sort of situation that’s really all that mattered to me. I was so angry at myself for feeling so little to feeling so much. The extremity of my moods switching so fast was putting me to a halt I couldn’t bare to describe to anyone.
The night before you left was a weird experience for me, as are most, but this was a little more out of the box. I sat in the passenger seat scrambling the words around in my head trying to think of how I could let the words leave my mouth so I didn’t sound like a psycho or an idiot. I was so upset with myself for being such a coward with my own feelings. I sat there watching you drive in silence screaming at myself from the inside because I couldn’t open my fucking mouth. I laid my head back and sucked my cheeks in slowly and held my own hands together. I looked over at you and you smiled and told me how much I meant to you.
“I can’t say that I love you, but I do really care about you. Ac-actually, I can say I love you. I’m not in love with you, but..I love you, because you’re so good to me.”
I sat there thinking this possibly couldn’t be happening. It’s almost as if he could read me from the inside out and I couldn’t help but feel like this was all set up in a script somewhere in the sky. I didn’t have the courage to even say it back. It’s funny how you can throw it out of your thoughts into actual words when you don’t mean it in the slightest, but when you mean it…it’s next to impossible. Maybe the reason I didn’t say anything was because I was in love with him. Forget the “maybe”. I smiled at him and tilt my head to the side and swallowed my inner speculations and issues with the fact I was being too faint of heart to tell him how I actually felt and sat all the way back in my seat. He grabbed my hand and set it on my upper thigh as we drove back to my place. I did love him, but most importantly, I was in love with him.
I feel like the past two weeks almost didn’t happen. When everything first started happening I had no idea anything would feel like this. As I’m sure, most don’t.
“I can’t keep your voice out of my head.”
—J.D Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (via philphys)
