Words and Nonsense

Sean

I had to post this. I just felt compelled.

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Friday, March 10, 2006

Glacing out the window, I see the light shining from the neighbors porch.  As I am laying on my bed, I stare at the pictures on my wall.  No pictures of any particular person, just pictures I printed off the internet.  Yet, they are me.  I feel attached to them.

  I am talking on my mother's cell phone.  I snuck it upstairs, she has no idea the conversation I am having with the boy I love.  This is no infatuation.  I know the difference now that I have felt love, despite my indignation for it.  He says he loves me, too.  I believe him, I just can't understand why Sean loves me.

  We tell eachother how much we want the other.  He 's too far out of my reach.  I hate that he has her.  He has her, and he cares for her...about her.  It's my fault, really.  I pushed him away.  I left him alone, so he found someone else.  Who can blame him?  He has always loved me, though.  I am just fool enough to close my heart, and block my emotions from him.  If he knew I loved him, he wouldn't have turned to her.  He really does love me, but they're together.  That nineteen year old boy and she.

  I tell him I love him.

  "Really?  I mean, really, really?  Not just really, but really REALLY?"

  "Really, really, really."  I say.  So many thoughts are racing through my head.  Some thoughts following the conversation, some thoughts I cannot not share with him.  All my thoughts are about him.  Everytime I hear him say "I love you", I tear up.  He may love me, I may love him, but Sean is not mine.  I cry.  Silent tears dancing on my cheeks, and the edge of my eyes.

  I want him to just kiss me.  I want him to need me.  He wants me, but that isn't enough.  I want him, but that doesn't help.

  My thoughts from sex to love, love to pain, pain to guilt.  He talks about what he wants to do to me, and I ask him "Please?"  The conversation sticks to what would cause a normal person arousal, and we are.  Sex to love.  He says he loves me.  He loves when I babble.  He loves when I get angry.  Love to pain.  It hurts so much to love him.  I cry in despair, but I do love him.  Pain to guilt.  I love him so.  I tell him.  I say I wish I could show him...pleasure him.  He's not mine.  He's hers, and I don't want to hurt her.

  I am going to have him.  He is going to be with me, eventually.  I told him so.  I told him, I am determined and persistant.

  Now, though, I refocus onto the pictures on my wall. We'll just have to wait for all that.  I'm patient for what I want, and he says patience is rewarded.

  Thinking about him makes me cry, but I love him.  He gave up on me, and now he's with her.  I will never give up on him.  He loves me, and that makes me happy.

  As time has changed, so have we.  Days go by. Next the weeks. My chance appears.

  And now he's mine.