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July 9, 2010
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i'm tired of being forced to live without you.

i've locked myself in this house again to avoid the real world. the days drag on again like they used to. i watch the sun hover up there in the blue sky, and i wonder if it was really winter that i hated. summer seems a lot worse, even though i spent every other season wishing for it to return.

i remember when i used to look out my bedroom window at complete paleness.

everything was a pasty grey, and i remember how the snow used to sparkle on the neighbor's rooftop on the few mornings that there was sunlight. i wished for the leaves to sprout on the bare maple branches on my command, and i think i almost believed that if i wanted something bad enough, i could truly create it in reality for myself.

and i'm tired of begging for things like that.

i'm mostly tired of begging for you to come home to me. it's been months now. eighty-six days, actually. i've found that i don't have the urge to do anything anymore if it doesn't involve you. that's almost psychotic, in my opinion. but i suppose my question here is: when did i become so quiet? that, and how did i bury myself this far under shame and hopelessness?

i remember everything that you don't.

and just because i saw you four days ago across a gift shop counter surrounded by purple walls doesn't mean that anything will ever be back to the way it used to be. the silence is all i can really feel now. it seems that way, even though it may not be true. like i said, i think i may be mentally ill.

i'm tired of wishing on my eyelashes and the first stars i see.

i wish i could make these feelings finally go away, and i wish even more that i could replace you with someone else, but it's simply not as easy as it seems. you were and still are everything to me. it'd be nice to explain how i feel without using clichés.

i fall asleep at night to simple wish-fulfillment.

i place myself into unrealistic situations in my dreams. like last night, i dreamt that my sister took you by the wrist and dragged you over to me. i dreamt that she placed our hands together and said, "this is what should be". it gets to the point where i actually believe that it's really happened. then i wake only to find that the sadness and the complete sense of loss haven't budged an inch. it's called perpetual disappointment.

i'm tired of being locked in self-pity.

some say that poetry is the most selfish form if writing. well, this isn't really poetry. i want you back. i need you back. there's no other way for me to say it.

i miss you more than you could possibly imagine.

i miss how your hands were always purple in the winter, and i miss how you used to complain about your sweatshirt being too thin but wearing it anyway because you didn't care enough to buy a jacket. i miss how your eyes reminded me of how the sky looks at eight in the morning in the autumn, and i miss how we were always entwined in each other emotionally, even if we weren't touching. i miss the natural blonde that used to be in your hair, and i miss your long chicken legs, even though they did look kind of funny sometimes. i miss how you always bent down to kiss me, and i miss noticing the little sparkle that used to creep into your irises when you were engulfed in complete bliss. i miss talking about running away together to a dreamland that probably only exists in my imagination now. i miss how you made me believe that we would be together forever. i miss how happy i used to be. i miss how you were the only person who ever made me feel like that.

i'm tired of telling myself what i could have done better.

i was too shy. i wasn't open enough. i got too angry too often. i didn't listen to you. i pushed you away when you wanted to help. i made you think that you had to keep me happy. i made you into a slave rather than a companion. i threw away our friendship like it was nothing, because i thought everything was okay. i let go of you, and i'm sorry. but apologies don't turn back time.

i hate waiting for things that will never happen.

especially when i can't make myself stop waiting. i'll wait for you to come back until the day that i die and beyond. as i take my last breath, i will whisper, "i love you" and wherever you are, you'll hear something strange rustle in the breeze, or you'll hear your air conditioner hiss, and you'll know that it's me.

i'm tired of being forced to live without you.

and i'm tired of trying to make stupid boys take your place. no one will ever fill the empty hole you dug into my heart. no one, except you. nothing, except for another chance at you. one day, i hope, you'll realize that we belong together, and you'll come running. i'll welcome you back with a parade and fireworks and a thousand marching bands.

i've locked myself in this house again.

and in the late afternoons, i like to watch the sunset turn the world a pinky-orange, and i wonder what it would be like to lie on the sands you promised me, just staring into that abyss.
yeah i just wrote this. i needed to get some things off my chest without using organized stanzas. here ya go.
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