my glasses are glued onto a strained pair of eyes
i often wonder where this path im taking will lead me
the street is leading me on, riddled with the pleasures and release of sexuality and the crippling thoughts of ignoring what i'm really desiring. i desire someone who loves me unconditionally. one who wants me. one who always is wondering when they can step foot into my room, one who asks when we can go out, one who smiles and laughs and gets my sense of humor. i don't know if im walking into a future where this longing grows more apparent in each and every day and i begin to realize the mess ive somewhat knowingly walked into. ive reached the tender age of 15, smack in the middle of my adolescent years and at the start of high school.
ive made a connection with someone. she and i have been on the same sidewalk. we've talked and walked together, shared deep secrets and hopes - i thought i was done searching. i no longer was a moon hanging on to the night as long as possible, dreading the time when the sun would have to take it's position. i thought so.
but... im not sure anymore. after the bell rings, and we make our way home, we are non-existent to one another. its as if we disappear and vanish into thin air, except when i : when i make the move. ive never had to do that before; type first. and now with her, i have to. ive spent long hours in my desk around her, almost as if she was the only one present.
she has someone. she doesnt need me. i thought after all the time weve walked together i had created something that ive always wished for. no. i dont think so now. she promises to keep going but i dont know anymore. had i really spent the last year only to have it amount to useless pebbles on the ground, ready to be kicked on the road and forgotten like all the other bonds i havent been able to maintain by myself.
i envy the work other people put in to balance it. im just so dumb - i dont even think i have the strength to do it. if you cant come for me i wont come for you. i wont talk unless someone speaks up and i hate that about myself. its hard - and difficult - and unbearable - running it over and over inside makes it no less helpful. when will the day come when i begin to really try. to really really try for once.
i want to smash my head in a wall, kick myself, pummel myself until i finally get it. until im able to connect and make plans and really care for the things ive started. why is it so hard. why am i not diffferent.
is this why im bound to be without a lover - i imagine it / i crave it / but im afraid and scared. terrified how i would go about it. i dont think they would walk with me for long, they would switch streets and go to a different city with breathtaking skyscrapers and lights around every corner to comfort them. it doesnt help that im not like a flower. it doesnt help that i resemble a weed, not only to others but most of all - me.
no amounts of anything will help - no music or videos or games or sexual release or reading or writing or showering or eating or sleeping or living will solve this. the only way i can do it is to try to talk. please, justin, try. just try and do it and push and dont stop and break out of your shell and let go and cry and. i just want what ive always wanted - ever since two years ago. my fear fuels my sadness ; this is my one wish in life. my one and only goal.
i apologize to you reading this, if you are. im sorry if this comes across as cringey, and sad, and laughable.
help me cross a street where the lights are red and cars are flinging left and right, prepared to crush me.
