Your hurt. Your in pain. You haven't recovered from the fight. Your parents don't understand you. You have no friends. And now you in anew place. You talk to no one. You look at no one. You just keep your head down and keep moving. Stay invisible you told yourself. You hope your reputation didn't follow you here. Well it did. People look, they started the whisper. You leave to cry. Why are people like this? They haven't anything better to do? Maybe they're just trying to cover up their own failures. Their own insecurities. But they don't know you. How bad your hurting. That their words feel like knives. That it really hurts almost physically the amount of stress, heartache, and hysteria your under. You want to break down. Not here. Not yet. You see someone. They are clearly way out of your league. But your friend knows them you eventually you and this person cross paths. They are cute funny and smart. The longer you were friends the more you talked, the closer you got. They stayed at your worst. By worst I mean on your deathbed, they picked you up like no one else. They brushed you off and gave you a sense of security. Of hope. In the past you said you will never not ever fall for someone again, you refuse to get hurt. You don't realize how attached to this person you are. You love them and your not even sure if they love you back. Your scared to tell them because what if they don't? You continue to see this person and this time you let yourself feel. You forget all your worries and stresses with them. With each touch you can feel yourself falling further in love with them. They become all you need. Your first thought in the morning, your last thought at night, and every thought in between and in even your dreams. It's no longer gravity that holds to this earth... it's them. They are the reason you stayed. They stayed. This euphoria you feel with them it's more powerful then the most painful of pains. And you know that in that moment they truly love you too.
But of course this is all just hypothetical
YOU ARE READING
Hypothetically
PoetryQuotes, poems, short stories, raw emotions. No names or specific pronouns used. Meant for all readers.