To tell the blatant truth would be sickening, but thankfully you have not the attention span or desire to hear my innermost thoughts, so I can spare you the distress. To tell the blatant truth would begin hazily on an October night. I knew you, you'd seen me. It felt like a family reunion with one of those distant cousins your parents' forced you to play with, yet you have no recollection and neither do they, still you're environmentally connected to each other. After 2 months, I became subconsciously linked to your aura and your body and everything that comes with you. It was heaven. I swore I was flying and you tasted like the clouds. I'd never met someone who intrigued me so much I could taste happiness in their sweat, but you stumbled into my life and made me drop all walls. I wish I could say it was always like this. I wish I could say there weren't hellish lows and freezing shoulders and not to mention, you already had someone and I was just the yoyo you found in the back of your closet while cleaning, that you strung and bounced and bragged about to your friends, but stuffed me right back in when anyone else was around. Yet, as Imm sitting here months following the last time you blew me off, I wish I could say the indifference feels like peace. It doesn't. It feels like disappointment and longing to feel something for you again, because even though the downfalls were moltenously below what I deserve, the highs were astronomically above what I could perceive. There aren't any metaphors to compare the amount of disinteresting despise I feel against you, besides to say I am the snake slithering through the tree, taunting you with my apple, and yes you took it, and yes I was once glowing with cosmic energy, but now I am disgusted that you would fall for my antics in the first place. You're repulsive and we ruined each other and I hope for your sake you learned a lesson about the mask of teasing and lust. As for me, I will always be doing better.
