Thirty Gegužės of Twenty Eleven

No. This isn't how it is.

I picture waking up in his arms and smiling at him. Knowing that we "love" each other and that we trust each other. That commitment we've had for eight months and nineteen days. And sure, it seems like nothing, but it's a long time for a kid like me.
And sure, maybe that moment is just a fantasy, but why would I sacrifice the possibility?

It's funny, because when he left, I was thinking harder and longer about what I was feeling. Then I remembered the term, a crush. It's sick, it's wrong, I know. But it went away. It went away as I thought about what I had and what I would be giving up. All the tears that would have been wasted if I had just walked away. This, the comparable Emancipation Proclamation oh my heart, will state that I will not walk away from something so powerful that it hurts.

And then I stop...
Because I don't know what's going to happen. Because who knows if he'll freak out. If maybe he'll read this blog and leave me. Or, he'll pick someone to blame and ban him forever.
Maybe he'll just get mad at me again and tell me I'm worthless and walk away.

I guess I'd expect it

It was funny though. Sitting there debating society's intricacies of someone paying for something else, and I speak up, "The real question is, do you want it to?" It kind of shocked me how, for once, I was straightforward, confident, and ready to face the situation. (It honestly reminded me of the person who taught me to be that way). So, we talked. I spit it out for him. We went out and discussed it more, letting the awkwardness die. We agreed about our separate lives. Was it wrong? No. I did what needed to be done, and I did it like an adult.

"Head underwater, and you tell me to breathe easy for a while. Breathing gets harder, even I know that."

Can't stop listening to "Hallelujah" and "Overkill".

'Hyphens and lies,
almost tears and perfect moments.
Where is this going?
I'm Courage, and I live in the middle of
fucking nowhere.

Safety is love now
and trust is thrown away.
I'm not good enough.
And I never will be.

Goodnight, moon,
maybe in the morning,
we'll speak again.
Until then,
I miss you.'