Lost and Searching

Love

Things I’ll Never Know

I dream of things I’ll never know
The way you feel in my arms
The taste of your lips on mine
The way you breathe in your sleep
The way you look at me and smile
All of the little fears you tell
All of the dreams you share
Sleep riddled words over breakfast
Hearty conversation at dinner
Confessions from a bottle of rum
Laughter from our favorite movies
Inside jokes and silly looks

I dream of these things
I think of these dreams
And I hurt
Because I know
I know.

You have these dreams too,
But not about me.

Advertisements

The One Who Never Left

The One Who Never Left

You are the one
Who never left
You are the one
Who never was

The apparition
Of my mind
The only love
I’ve never known

The One Who Never Left inset 3 2The One Who Never Left inset 2 The One Who Never Left inset 1


Barbed: Sweet Words for the Lonely

People always have things to say about my being single.

“You’ll find someone soon!”
“It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“You’re lucky, you don’t have to put up with _____.”
“God has a plan for you.”

They think they’re helping, but they aren’t. They don’t know. It’s also different than when they tell this to their friends that have just gotten out of a relationship. I’ve never had one and I long ago passed the age where you’re supposed to have at least some semblance of an idea of what goes into dating. The older I get, the more difficult it is. The more I’m supposed to know, and the stranger it is that I don’t.

I won’t meet someone soon. I don’t go out. I don’t talk to people. I have the same group of friends I’ve had since I was 12. I can barely hold a conversation with the person at the checkout, so how am I supposed to meet someone and start dating? And when you expect to die alone, how can you possibly expect it less?

The people that say I’m lucky because I don’t have to put up with whatever bullshit relationship issue they choose are just fucking morons. They don’t know what it’s like to be alone like I am. When they look at being single, what they see is the freedom to do what they want without anyone to hold them accountable. They think of the annoying things that their partner does. They don’t think of the pain that comes with it, the crushing emotional and spiritual pain. They don’t remember all of the small things their partner does; the small comforting touches, the kind looks, or the intimacy that they share. They aren’t thinking about what it’s like looking at their bed and knowing that, for the X00th day straight, they get to share it with nobody. They also do not realize that when they are alone, they have touches and lovers to remember; that I have none of those small comforts. When I close my eyes and think of the women I have loved, I have to remember that not a goddamned one of them felt the same for me, that I have continually sought woman that want nothing to do with me.

And, finally… God did have a plan for me and I’m pretty sure I fucked it away 9 years ago. I know what it was, and I fucking ran. I hated Him and I told Him to take His plan and fuck off. I wasn’t going to do what He wanted after all He had let happen to me. I was angry, and spiteful, and a stupid fucking child. I made my biggest mistake for petty grievances and I’ve suffered the consequences. It’s not rational, I know, but in spite of all I have seen and learned, I can’t shake my faith in a Higher Power. I know all of the logical reasoning against a Higher Power, but there’s still that voice at the back of my mind that says “But what if you’re wrong?”, and so I believe, even if I can’t yet bring myself to live it. And if I believe, then I have to accept that He has plans, and that there are pros and cons to following them. I can’t dwell on the what-ifs, but I can see where the path diverged.


Maladaptive

When I wake up in the morning,
I lie in bed for an hour,
Our maybe just a half
I close my eyes
And let my mind wander
I think
And I dream
Of you,
Or you,
Or maybe even you.
And in this time,
I am not alone
As long as my eyes are closed
I am not alone.

It hurts when I must
My eyes open
And reality seeps in
No longer can I hide
No longer am I loved
For you are not here
And my life,
Just as my bed,
Is empty
But for me

I would give
What little I have
For my dreams
To come real
If even for just an hour


I Wanted Something Pretty: An Almost Love Poem

Knee socks
And auburn locks,
A smile that gently mocks

A beautiful body,
Demure but naughty,
She shares it humbly

The beautiful nerd,
She knows every word,
To every movie I’ve heard

I would hold her close,
Kiss her on the nose,
And listen to her woes

Perfection in my eyes,
Believing all the lies,
Ignoring all it implies

When reality must invade,
All those thoughts I forbade
She is nothing like what I made

For in all reality,
Her and I would never be,
As there is no one left for me.

I just wanted something pretty,
Unadulterated and full of beauty,
But everything for me was broken and shitty.

 

 

I think that this is as close to a love song as I can get for now. No matter how I start it, it always comes back to being hurt. It shouldn’t be surprising, really. Every almost relationship I’ve ever had has ended in pain. I can’t seem to stop it unless I never start it, but the loneliness of that is worse than any hurt I have ever felt at the leaving of someone I cared for.

Although, starting is just as difficult. I have trouble going up to anyone. When I try to, I feel that I am offending them by even showing an interest, which says a lot about my self-esteem and how I view myself.