December 17th, 2017

            I don’t think I’ve ever truly gotten over you. Sure, I’ve let go of my hatred upon learning how unjustified it truly was, but have I truly forgot you? No, no I haven’t. If anything, I think about you even more now.

I know how you look now. Sometimes, I’ll voluntarily whisk myself away into galleries of nothing but your face. I’ve read paragraphs upon paragraphs of carefully written words about you, and each phrase and clause is still with me today. I’m not exactly sure why I allow myself to engage in this self-destructive behavior. I know in the end it will only burn me and leave me a breathless mess, but I have no self-control when it comes to you.

I’m not going to act like you are in my mind like you were before, but I’m not going to pretend that I’ve let you go, because I haven’t. There is some force that keeps drawing me to you, and I don’t know why. Perhaps there’s some higher power trying to show me something, but I can’t figure out what that’d be. I can’t explain what about you and your story is so fascinating that I continue to be pulled in.

Sometimes I wish you’d leave my head. Other times I wish you’d stay, because in some moments, I don’t mind your presence in my thoughts. On some days, you’re the one thing in my head that stays the same when everything else changes. On other days, however, I want to just rip those thoughts straight out and wash them down the drain.

One of these days, I’m going to finally figure out why I can’t resist you, and perhaps that will be the day I learn how to control myself, and how to let go of you, because you’re fire, and when you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned.


I Saw His Face

August 1st, 2017

After seeing your photo, I avoided the newsstand I loved so much for a week.

I didn’t even mean to look at you in the first place. I was passing through, and the picture just slipped by. It wasn’t the first time I saw it either; it lingered in the press for a couple of days. It just took me until then to scan it, and find the two identical numbers that signified it as being you.

It’s funny; you looked exactly how I imagined you. You had pale skin, dark eyes, and a slim, but not elongated, face. I’m sure if I looked a little harder, I could have found a couple of strands of deep brown hair on your head, too. By the point I acknowledged your features, however, I ran away from your photo and shut my eyes.

Closed off from seeing the world, I took a moment to breathe. As I sat in silence, I felt the general rush of heat that I felt upon discovering these types of things. It wasn’t attraction, I could never be attracted to someone like you, but it caused some sort of emotion. It was as if I didn’t want to know, but now I had to live with the information for the rest of my life anyway.

I honestly did wish your smiling face, looking up towards the sky, wasn’t stuck in my mind, but despite my wishes, it was. And with it being in my head, came the understanding of how it was so easy to forget where you’ve been in summers like these. I understood why some my age fawned over you, and while I’d like to admit I didn’t do so, your persistence in staying in my thoughts told me otherwise, even if it wasn’t the least bit romantic.

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