I would be so much happier if I had a dog
I would be so much happier if I had a dog
My life, in the words of my brother, is that of “a shitty romance novel.”
There is me, and there is him, and there is his girlfriend, and there is you.
And then there is Sim God, watching me up in the sky, going: “LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL”
I am such a passionless miserable fuck. So many wonderful things are happening around me right now, yet my mind still manages to find the imperfections and flaws and potential for things to go wrong in everything I do - and despite all the negativity I willingly endure, I tend to keep all of these thoughts to myself, and suffer with them, and overanalyze them, and breathe life into them until they consume my conscious mind and I end up wallowing in utter confusion that is one hundred percent self inflicted. Take for instance, a little snippet of my day that has left my mind spinning for so many different reasons.
You called around 7 and asked if I wanted to get dinner with you on campus soon and there was absolutely no way I could say no - I don’t think any girl in their right mind would, unless they were blind and stupid, or at least had never heard you sing in spanish while you played the mandolin with nostalgia burning in your eyes.
So I found my shoes which still hadn’t dried completely from walking around in snow earlier in the morning. Mud was caked on the soles and this was when I noticed the footprints on the carpet I must have left there when I got home - and despite racing thoughts, I can’t help but notice how sure and steady each one seems, so I try to picture myself literally walking in my own footsteps in the same way I assume I do every day I get back to my apartment. I can’t. Each muddy track seems to contain too much self confidence, to much independence, and too much strength.
Then I notice my reflection in the mirror - the dark half moon under each eye seems to accompany the too big jeans that hang off my body just like every other pair of clothing I own nicely. I am so tired, so weary, and so jaded, which is too much passionless emotion for a girl who is only 20 to feel, and I keep asking myself why why why over and over again I am doing this to you - you, who cannot possibly begin to understand the way my mind works despite your own psychosis and insanity, and who cannot possibly understand that I am not something for someone to possess anymore, because there have been too many people in my life up until now who have tried to exhibit control over my actions and I simply can’t allow that to happen anymore. I am not giving my freedom to anyone again.
Yet despite all this, I walk to the bus stop to meet you there, making unsteady footprints in the snow and shivering a little bit while I smoke a cigarette, wishing it wasn’t dark so I could put my sunglasses back on and hide the tired lines on my face from you - or really, just to hide the truth of how uncertain I am about this and you and everything, because sometimes I see the same hesitance in your eyes and I don’t want you to recognize the fact that I’m absolutely terrified of you, and the havoc you have the potential to wreak on my life, just like the others did in the past.
Music in my ears drowns out the sounds of traffic and people around me in the best way possible, and I turn my eyes up towards the mountains like I always do when they’re within my view so I can lose myself in their snow-covered grandeur for a minute while I wait for you to get here. Time passes, and I forget what I’m waiting for and find myself blissfully unaware of all that is going on around me. The mountains bring me peace, as I’m sure they have to countless others before me.
I feel a hand on my waist and a mixture controlled yet confused feelings flash through me like a small bolt of lightning - a brief fear takes hold of my mind and I almost push away from you, almost, but you are too smart and too aware to let me do that like I have in the past. So I turn almost reluctantly to face you knowing it will shatter the peace felt by my meditative contemplation of the mountains into a million little shards of glass that are guaranteed to make my stomach churn with sharp, unkind anxiety. Because damn if I don’t notice your hazel eyes and that mop of black hair and that little half smile which hints that there is a chance you might know what I’m thinking - I’m speechless for a minute, because the two days I haven’t seen you and all the school work I’ve been focusing on have essentially made me forget exactly what you actually look like.
But now I remember all the things that physically attracted me to you, and nerves make me the first one to break eye contact with you, because there is absolutely nowhere to hide at this point. And despite how ragged and tired I must look you still lean over to kiss me in that incredibly gentle way that is so very you, making my mind go completely blank and while my heart beats a little faster underneath fragile bones. The anxiety that has wormed its way into my mind over the past few days essentially melts away from my conscious mind because your hands brush electricity against the skin around my waist and the soft kisses you press against my mouth while it snows around us as we wait for the bus to arrive grant me the unfamiliar feeling that everything in this moment is exactly how it should be despite the ghosts of the past that seem to haunt us both.