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the second love of my life. i was eight, he was ten. his name was matthew. he was tall. blonde hair, blue eyes. he lived on a farm on the outskirts of springfield, il. i knew him for the four years i lived there in the “city” of springfield. his voice was deeper than most men, i think he hit puberty when he was seven, and if i remember correctly, he might have had facial hair. at least in my memory he did, he was perfect.

on my birthday he took me on his horse. the horse’s name was sam. it was the first time i rode one, i loved horses more than anything. they were the first thing i taught myself to draw- majestic, strong, and beautiful. i remember that riding on that horse hurt immensly, but matt had his skinny arms around me, and they felt so safe, so i pretended like i was fine. he rode up to this little barn at the end of his land, he got off the horse and helped me off. we walked up the ladder and sat on the roof of the barn, in the hay, looking at the sky. we talked about god, horses and creeks. he loved creeks. he and my brother would take their sling shots and kill squirrels. if one of them got hurt they would run to me so that i could fix them. i wanted to marry him. i would have too, if he would’ve taken me.

his dad died when he was eleven. i saw him cry. which in turn made me cry. but he was so strong, he never once was embarrassed that he cried. he never let that turn him into something else. most guys close up, he never did.

the older he got, the taller he got. the lower his voice got. the last time i saw him, i was eighteen, he was married, and his voice was LOW. i didn’t love him anymore, but i do know, that if i had to choose the best date of my life, it would have been my birthday- when he took me on his horse, and talked to me like i was his friend, like he cared.

“i’m afraid of heights, matt.”
“if you’re gonna fall, i’ll catch you.”

i almost jumped out of the barn to see if he would. but i knew i didn’t have to, he was the only guy i’ve ever trusted.

i’ve found myself calling/writing guys, that i used to date, like, or know, waiting for one of them to tell me they are still in love with me. a couple still do love me. but it doesn’t make me feel any better, i still know that i never loved them.

i’m addicted to being alone. sometimes when i’m sleeping and there is someone near by i will groan for no reason. i’ll catch myself doing this and realize that the groan was anger towards someone, constantly waking me up, just because they’re there. who sleeps well with someone else there? i never have. who lives well, with someone else there? i don’t know how.

not talking about friends. i have a lot of friends, and a few good ones that i want near me. but i couldn’t imagine needing someone, loving someone, and being there for someone at all times. All shit on the table, and all love aside, but you do love this person– maybe you’re in love with this person. but what is in love? i don’t know. i really don’t. i know a few people that think they’ve been in love with anyone with a pulse. i know some other people who wouldn’t admit love if it slapped them in the face a thousand times over. i know i’m not apathetic towards love, i think about it every second, and double that if i have the time. but i still don’t understand what it is.

cliche as it sounds.

i don’t think you can be in love with someone you’ve known for three months. but then what do i know? i’ve never known it. i don’t think sex is love, but i think it clouds people’s minds. i one time thought i liked this twenty-nine year old professor that i made out with in madison. all i did was make out with him. but i still was confused. i think we all get confused. but sometimes the confusion is lovely.

i’d like to be confused with someone just as confused as me. that would be sweet. we could make out and wonder what the other person really felt, but still know the feelings were mutual. hold hands on the couch. giggle. throw food at each other. question everyday whether or not he is the right one.

sounds stellar.

no joke. i kinda wished strange love existed in my life.

every time my pen touches paper, a heart appears in front of me. i then write the word “love” down. multiple times. “love, love, love” is normally what i write. i draw a nice heart. a few more. shit. i scribble it all out, hoping no one sees. it’s too late. i’ve already seen it.

“it’s not real,” i write. “love is for fools,” i write again. “love, love, love” comes oozing off my pen like saliva from a rotweiler’s mouth. and no. it is not fucking pretty. love is not what needs to be there. written in front of me. i do not care for love. i am me. loveless. useful in the sense of words as something to play with. not love.

i write love.  i write love. does not exist. love is wrong. love is not for me. i do not fucking believe in love. i am no fool.

no. i am not a fool. i do not want your flowers, your candy. your funny, cute smiles on sweetest day. such a greeting card day. fuck you, no i never got a card on sweetest day. i don’t understand that day. i don’t want your card, anyway. i want to be alone. i want to love– love does not exist. fuck you, love. fuck you.

and i am not a stupid little girl. so i know that when my pen touches paper and it outlines the first side of the first heart, set in the middle of soon to be more hearts. i am saying, “i want love. i fucking need it right now.” so i erase it, because it bugs me. BUGS me. gets on my nerves. i am annoying myself with this love bullshit. i can’t stop it.

love love love lvoe loveh fjeklhvsurig. alove. fhasjgfhsjgsh fdoesn’t exist. fuck that noise. love.

and let me tell you about love. love come in all shapes of good, bad and ugly. love has dark eyes. they are not blue. they annoy me. they don’t open very wide. they don’t smile. love is cocky. like messed up, half-assed teeth. not perfect. love is not perfect. love is on medication. love is dreaming of someone else while it goes down on m– my love. love. does not exist. and i want to make it real. but i can’t. because i do not believe in love. because i don’t know what love is. because love is a cunt. love is ugly and fat and blind. love is disgusting. because love uses me. it wakes me up at three in the morning to yell at me. and then four in the morning to make love to me. love is afraid of me. love hangs up the phone while i’m talking. love is not concerned with anything but keeping my mouth shut.

all i know of love. all i know is what i see. and in front of me i draw hearts. i write down, “love”. i fall in love as quickly as i deny that i have met it.

i lie to you. because i do not love you. i lie to you. because i want you to love me. i lie to you. because i like you. and it’s getting cold. and i want to borrow your arm… and your jacket.

it would be nice to go to sleep with clothes on.

she moves out the door slowly, as if time is running past her and the inability for her to keep up only makes her want to slow down even more. she lights her cigarette. wonders why it does not light, then allows him to do it for her.

“thank you” she says, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“anything for you.”

and she smiles. and he smiles. and she shivers, so he offers her his coat. she wonders what it would be like to feel his arms around her the way his coat is draped over her shoulders. and she wonders if he is for real, or just a dream.

she looks down at her cigarette. it is burning slower then expected, and she can’t understand why her head is not comprehending anything. and she can’t comprehend why she can’t understand anything. and she see’s a pretty girl walk outside. a girl who is incomparable to her. yet she compares herself anyway. because this girl might be with him. she might be the one he wants. and in that case the love affair that took place in her mind is over, and she might as well sleep on the couch tonight. she wouldn’t want to get in the way.

her heart is racing fast. but her eyes are moving slower. and slower. and her cigarette is still burning. she stares at it to make sure that it is, in fact, still burning. she sees it burn, but there is no way to make it go faster. she cannot think of a way to make it go away so that she can go inside, and give him back his coat. because she does not want it, if he does not want her.

she stands still. and her heart just laughs. so she laughs in turn. and she can feel his eyes on her. and she cannot stop laughing, because if she were to, she might cry. and she wonders why he would do this to her. lead her on like this. and then she reminds herself that a simple glance her way, is not a pick up line. and she stands back. and looks around. and finds her car and wonders how long it would take her to walk there.

but she does not want to leave. she wants him to ask her to stay. but she is afraid that he would not want her too. she is afraid that if he did, he might use her for the night and never call. she is afraid that he is like any other. but she wants to find out for sure.

she looks down at her cigarette. time will tell her that it has only been five minutes, but maybe it is cold and she should go inside to get warm.

and she looks at his smile. and it is beautiful. and she looks at the gleam in his eye. and it is beautiful. and she stares for hours. but her reality tells her it is only a second. and she wants to know what it would look like, if someone like that found her to be someone like that.

i guess there is a reason for everything.

i don’t know why you are alone here. i know you better than anyone does, and you don’t deserve this.

one day. one day you will be there, watching the waves of the ocean fall over eachother, and you will not be aware of anything else. you will be dreaming that the water takes you under and brings you back up again. you will be dreaming. because dreamers like you, carry the world with your imagination. because dreamers like you, don’t know how to stop dreaming, or stop trying, or stop creating worlds like this one. and you will be watching the ocean. and you will see the diamonds. and they will reflect the blue skies, and your green eyes. and then… then it will happen. then you will be taken off guard by love. it will come. it will come and sweep you off your feet. it will come and pull you under. it will be greater than your dreams. because i wish for you more than you could ever dream.

because i love you.

my beautiful baby.

the last time i was alone. i was cold. the snow covered my car. and i didn’t want it. i dreamt that i was in heaven. and the angels song lifted me above such nonsense as earth. “i believe in you god. i believe that you love me.” then i woke up. walking to my place in line. so i could wait. “be here on time.” but i was. and i still wait. wait for what? for a hand to pull me under. to lift me up. then back again.

and i saw his face. and the face of a child. his child. she smiled at me with naive eyes. and it pained me to know that i had no right to save her. no right to talk to her. no right. even if i did. she wouldn’t have listened. she would never have believed. you cannot see what you do not want to.

lets hear it for love.

and someone thought they could pull me under. they thought it was their turn to make me feel the cold water on my skin as we fell under the waves. but i had to tell him, “we are so far from the coast.” but he said, “it looks like diamonds from here,” i smiled and laughed. as if i’ve never heard that one before. if you can’t take me, don’t tease me. and i turned around and went in a new way. he stood still. and fell to pieces. and i’d say sorry. but it was no one’s fault. just a misperception.

and then there was the man.  when i was little. he was not. when i was crying. he was not. and he watched over us all. straight and tall. and i felt so small. learning the stories of a jesus that loved me. and a god that cared. and the love i deserved was found in there. and trust me i knew. that this had to be true. cause my hope in this life. was deep and wide.

and my brother sang. the pretty kids are never mean. and they never hurt you and they never take you for what you were not. and they never make you sit, while they rise above. and i wonder. i wonder what miss perfect is doing now. and if she had found someone true to take her under. and lift her up. and back again.

maybe this time will be different. maybe moving on is moving away. and like he said, “you are a rose in spanish harlem. a beautiful light in a dark place. why oh why. do you stay here when you should find your place amongst the stars?”

and i saw his name. dry on my lips. nothing like water to quench my thirst. more like the sand that sucks the moisture out. and i believed he loved. but he never did. and i believed in a lie. a lie that i still believe to be true. otherwise i would not be thinking of it. i believed he could pull me under. and lift me up. and back again.  

it’s who we are. it’s what we do. we’ve come so far. still, this lie’s in you.

my smile is worth a thousand of your lies.
you lie on command, i smile.
on command.

please don’t go saying you need me.
when you never cared.
and your life that you left for me.
mirrors that of the dead.
kiss me at the door to your bed.
and tell me to go home instead.

do you believe in love? you know. that thing that rips you apart. and leaves you naked on the floor. breathing. for a new start. a new hope. that would be different at the new door. of a new love. a new dependent. a new mouth to kiss. lies to feed. food to distress. and body to undress.

would you like to dance? in an open dealing of wild feelings. take me down whole. wise me up to the world. i am yours today. where should i lay? how long do i have to laugh. before you ask me to stay? how long do we breathe in awkward off beat patterns. before you push me away?

the flowers in my hair.
are put there for you.
to attract the very being.
that kills the very feeling.
that life could get me.
without you.

do i stop now. or go on. with you. to love me. to hate me. to scratch my back. and i yours. never let my head. hit the bed. without your hand behind it.

you have a killer smile.

you don’t get it. but i do. but not in you. in your eyes. i might see the truth.
and that is in you. my tongue is more important. then my truth.

and we. might as well. go home to our families. and we. might as well. call our hearts off crazy. and i. might as well. steal the stranger’s angry. and you. might as well. hurt my heart completely. so we. can move on.
again.

take your hands from inside of me. put them to good use beside of me. and kiss the mouth thats feeds you. and bite the hand that leads you. because we aren’t going to last forever. but we could try. for a hope that we’d stay together. and then die. knowing the choice we made was wrong. and that we knew it all along.

because i know that love would be incredible. and love could be a savior.
and love.
could kill my ideas.
on love.

and i would love.
for a chance.
to feel death for life now.

your stares on me are friendly.
so i will kiss you softly.
and be. the girl of you dreams.
but you are not who my mother promised for me.

please don’t say another word.

my lie is worth a thousand of your smiles.
you smile on command, i lie.

you understand.

christmas in chicago.
as if we still go down town.
and thats always how it goes.
losing what you’ve never found.
cheers to your life right now.
an open book for everyone.
maybe babe, someday with time.
what’s been started, will all be done.
i stare off into the street.
sitting here beneath the lights.
and my eyes would sting with tears.
but my soul is already numb tonight.

holding your starbucks cup.
green and red.
tis the season.
to be dead.
you’re frank sinatra.
ringing in my ears.
telling me it’s okay to love.
and bringing me to tears.
eat your fucking chocolate.
drink it up this new years.

you can hold me close.
and tell me it’s okay.
say the snow will be gone.
and we will all forget that day.
kiss me underneath the moon.
twirl me on the dance floor.
might as well be the mistletoe.
that took my hero at the door.
here’s a toast to us, alone.
drink it down with jack and sprite.
save me a kiss tonight.
you look so beautiful in the street light.

holding your starbucks cup.
coffee or tea?
tis the season.
to not be me.
you might be dean martin.
music to my ears.
telling me it’s okay to love.
and bringing me to tears.
drink your fucking cheap wine.
swallow it down this new years.

i might never be your girl.
but i am saying it’s okay.
there’s a lot more to my world.
and we wouldn’t make it anyway.

What makes a girl like me, who has no previous experience with any sort of love, desire just plain sex more so than anything else, anyway? That’s a rhetorical question. You don’t have to be a genius to understand which feelings inside this female have been turned off, and which she looks away from, and which she denies exist. Just so she can experience someone else’s touch. Just so she can have fun.

I do not want love. I do not want a boyfriend. I want excitement. Excitement is something that I can control. And I am finished in the ways of doing things beyond my control. I am done with love.

This is a decision made months ago. But I did turn my opinion around for a short while, after I met the boy that I would allow to take my breath away. There I stood only to find that by giving him my heart, I would have no life left within me. (It is never good to fall for the one who steals your breathing.) So I held back some of me. I was weary of the situation. Turned out, he didn’t want me anyway. He wanted someone easier. And then I realized. So did I.

So yes, I have gone back to those core beliefs: Give up on love. Don’t give up on yourself. Live. And you don’t need love to live.

Love is a beautiful thing. Love, lifts us up where we belong. All we need is love. Love stinks. Love is for the weak. Love is dangerous. Love is corny. Love is undeniable. Love catches you off guard. Love only comes when you aren’t looking for it. Love does not exist.

I had a friend. He started dating this girl who seemed wonderful in everyway. A week later he told me that he knew it wouldn’t last long. He said that he was, “Waiting for this one to end.” Why, my friend, would you even start something like that? Throw your heart at someone, only to know that eventually one or both parties will bail? Why send yourself back to start before you even know there is going to be an ending? And when you are so certain that you see the ending, why wait for it? Why not end it right there?

Maybe he and I are both wrong. Maybe it’s not our fault that life throws us lemons, and we are such fuck ups, we can’t even figure out how to make the lemonade. Maybe no one showed us how to love, and therefore, we believe it does not exist, because we cannot MAKE it exist. We will protect ourselves in the only way we know how. I will not touch love. He will try love, but decide not to fully enjoy it, because he knows that eventually it will be gone.

We end up cheating ourselves of something greater than this life we know. But I don’t think that it is our fault. Only our cirumstances. I mean. I’d love a chance at love. And I hate that it is not there. But I won’t give my love to anyone. And I hate that I am twenty-one and have yet to come close. I hate that I firmly believe in the non-existence of love. I hate that I find more enjoyment being alone, then I do with someone by my side. I hate it, because it seems so unnatural to you and everyone else. I hate it, because it is so second nature to me. I hate it, because I am so codependent on myself. It is not my fault that I have not been handed the right situation. But it is my fault that I have missed it when it was right in front of me.

It is our fault that we didn’t fight for it when we saw it start to slip away.

I hate it, because you don’t understand. And therefore can’t relate. I hate you. Because you seem to think my actions are wrong. And I hate you for feeling bad for me.

I met a boy. His name will forever go unmentioned, for I love him nameless, and so will keep him that way. He lent me power. I had never felt that way before. And maybe for a moment I got the feeling of what it could mean to be in love.

And this is when I am interrupted by your thoughts, so that you can tell me how I look in all the wrong places for love. I am aware of my shortcomings. Insecurities. Stunted ideas of love. I am aware that slowly I am taking life away from my heart and giving it to my body. I am aware. I don’t care. Because this might be the only way I will learn about myself. The only way that I will learn to breathe through someone else’s mouth.

The things that are so second nature to you, are not easy for me. The things that you could never imagine doing, are what comes so naturally to me. I am not a whore. Just curious. Just wondering if the moments of fun are worth the numbness of heart. Just testing my limits. Just trying out the “yes’s” and the “no’s.” Just making up for lost time. Just curious.

I would never kiss a boy that liked me, if I did not like him. I would never lead someone on, because I think that its fun. I would never lie, and say that I wanted a relationship when I really didn’t. I would never intentionally keep flirting, if I knew you liked me. But I would kiss you if I didn’t know your name. I would kiss you, if I thought you were attractive enough. I would kiss you if you got me drunk enough. I would kiss you if you asked.

I wish people would just not like me to begin with. I am just not that into you. And not because I have ruled out love completely. But because I have never found anyone to make me take back the stupid things I have just said. And make me believe that it exists for me. Make me believe that I didn’t miss it while standing there alone, waiting for him to come find me.

We are all the same. I can kiss you as long as I don’t know your name. Whereas you can date someone as long as they don’t have your heart. Where you can sit in your room alone, knowing you are only settling for yourself. I will settle for the someone who doesn’t care. We all settle. Just don’t settle in the areas that you, and only you, deem innappropriate.

And maybe someday, you will be loved.

(…i’ll remember where the love was found) 

i wish someone was there. 

i wish someone was there.

i wish someone was there.

no one was. but i was not alone. 

now i am. 

if only in my head. 

i loved you all, you know that?  i just never got a chance to tell you. 

now it’s too late.  because i forgot how to love.  i forgot that it is possible.  love is blind.  i never forget to say it right before i click my phone shut.   but i have no recollection of it in my life.    love.  does not. 

exist.

please for me.  tell me you are real.  tangible.  something i can lay my head on.  and just coast. just fly by the world.  with my face in your chest.  dreaming of another day.  a day that is easier.  that i can understand.  that i can feel.

i feel sick.  i feel hungover.  don’t drink too much.  no.  don’t smoke too much. no.  smoking’s dangerous.  it kills you. 

so does life.

remember when i lead you on?  because i liked your attention.   remember when i thought i should settle?  because you were too beautiful to pass up. remember when you kissed me?  and i felt like i had to, but i never liked you.  remember when i let you touch me?  even though you never deserved it. remember when i was so good in your eyes?  now i am reduced to nothing.   that’s okay.

i do it to myself.

i am lonely. but not alone.  i am strong.  but tired. friendly.  but i hate you.  a dreamer.  but  haven’t slept in days.  and they ask. “why are you wastin your life away?  you had so much potential.” so i laugh.  i smile.  i tell them that i am fine.  fine.  fine.  don’t tell me who i have become.  i am still hard at work.  fixing myself.  being real.  realizing my dreams.  just not so you can see.  then i run home.  and bury my face in my pillow. 

then slowly.

 the pain that runs through my veins.

 is gone.

i am numb. and there is no need for regrets.

when you chase it.

with your coffee and cigarettes.