Let me tell you something. I've never felt this way before. I have never cried over someone. I thought I incapable of feeling. But you
You make me feel.
And I hate it. I hate it so damn much. But do you know why I hate? It is a familiar emotion.Unlike what you're making me feel right now. It makes me feel safe.
As this untimely rain pours down on my rooftop. I feel the pitter patter in my heart. Is it you singing the song of the rain? Or is it just the poor fist sized muscle breaking to little pieces as it falls. Like I fell, for you. The damned bedazzled you.
It was as if I met my polar opposite and then decided "Oh well, that's what you get for letting down your walls little heart."
I'm saying heart a lot. The correct term is the limbic system of the temporal lobe of the brain. But little limbic system of the temporal lobe of my brain doesn't have that ring you know?
I used to call those who cried for me pathetic. Oh what a surprise! She's not a nice person. Congratulations, you have reached the bazzinga of this pitifully pathetic story. Why the heck are you still reading?
There have been times when I laughed at the faces of those who trusted me enough to cry in front of me. When I cried from laughing as they cried from temporal lobe break. See, it's weird to say it in that context.
"You'll know what it feels like soon, Vanya and when you do. I will be the one laughing" and she was. She was laughing when I told her. When I told her how I was the pathetic one now. " Little Vanya finally felt an emotion! Oh how cute, it works!" She said as she tapped my chest as if she was tapping the muscle inside it.
And I feel it now, I'm sorry Priyanshi, I feel the way you did and it sucks monster balls. You'll never read this and that's probably why I'm able to say this.
Because the truth is, I'm a coward. A weakling, a milksop, a namby-bamby. Call me whatever floats your boat. I'm afraid. I've always been afraid of this thing called love. So much that I told my boyfriend that if he said it to me I'd break up with him. But when I wasn't. This thing fucking crushed me like a timbrel cart crushes eggs.
This is the part where I should say I will never fall in love again. But I probably will and it probably will kill me again. But don't worry I'll keep you updated. What's the fun in not laughing at people's misery? Nothing.
Until then,
Adios hoes
YOU ARE READING
About Her...
RandomWhen people say I talk too much. I transfer my thoughts onto pages. Well in this case, an orange app.
