I think when you're 16 you don't expect it to hurt as much as it does but what do you know about love until it slams against your pure chest and shatters any framework that guarded your lungs which at one point could breath. So you take the risk. You fall in love and he leaves and the next thing you know is you stop washing your hair. Your skin is bruised with the creases of the sheets you have tangled yourself within hoping that the pain would just fade away. But all you can do is sit so still as if you were dead inside. And your mother wants to yell at you, yell for you just to be sane and you again yet its that blank stare you have on your face that makes her cry. So what's next, you'll destroy yourself to the point where long sleeves come into play. Where the smoke you intake will make you cough till you throw up and you won't be able to stand that burning in your throat, reminding you of the things you should have said. You'll run so far way without leaving the closed boarders of your room. Or maybe you will kiss one too many boys who look like him or nothing close to him just so you can feel something. But you'll always remember you let him fuck you up, and the bottles of alcohol will have no problem reminding you nor will they have issues letting you leave drunk voicemails. You'll sit so quietly, remembering you haven't cried for 36 days even though you are always crying. So that day you promised never to love again, that you wouldn't let anyone hurt you like this again. That you wouldn't love anything anymore again because it hurt more than anyone could ever warn you. No one told you that this was love and maybe its not love. Maybe its more, maybe it's something from another world. Maybe its just your bones breaking again but it doesn't matter what it is because it hurts.
-what I think of love
