a sad kind of happy

it’s a sad kind of happy when i’m with you. i love being around you, you make me smile and laugh. you make me happy.

in all honesty, i think i love you. i really think i do.

we’re friends, we talk, we hang out sometimes. i like that.

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sometimes you confuse me, though. sometimes i’ll think you feel the same way about me, but then you’ll ignore me the next day.

in all honesty, you’re confusing, so confusing.

but, that’s part of who you are.

i try to understand you, because there’s so much to understand. you’re talented in so many things, but you doubt yourself. you are loved by so many people, but you deny it. you say no one likes you, but you know that i’m here.

i’m here sitting by you right now. you’re looking out the window. we’re listening to music on your phone. i have the left ear bud, you have the right.

i’m happy right now, i’m with you, but it’s a sad kind of happy

we’re listening to love songs. sometimes, i pretend that the songs are a message. i pretend the songs are you telling me you love me…. but we both know that’s not true.

we both know it will never will be true.

i love being around you because i love you.

but you never will.

that’s why it’s a sad kind of happy…

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california, you’re driving me crazy

i’ve never experienced anything beautiful

the only thing i can remember is riding bikes around this small town with people who are now mundane

biking around before anyone could drive and before things got so complicated and you liked drinking so much and your new friends

when we would go down random streets just to go down them and listen to music that made us fall in love

not with each other although we loved each other but with this silly small town and the feeling it gave us

maybe it didn’t make us fall in love maybe it only made me

you’re much cooler now but we put your speaker in the bike basket and listened to music with girls singing who had much prettier voices than you and had picnics and sat in grass that made me itchy all over

and this isn’t a love story in any way nor am i mad i just wish i was more artistic and didn’t have to read on people who are much cooler than i am to become inspired

i think that’s where all of this sprouts from

my lack of creativity and artistic ability and i try but maybe i’m made to grow up and hate my job

while i’m at it i might as well just quit this whole class along with every other one too

i’ll probably just keep picking the skin off my thumbs and dedicate my life towards the absolute rotting of my brain like all my friends are doing

and i’ll stay in the same shitty town where i listened to shitty music with you in that only made us hate each other probably because your voice was prettier than hers but I would never tell you that

and this town is rainy now and not the good type of rain but the sad type and the places we used to go make me sick and you

you and your new friends exchange presents while i’m sitting there and that makes me feel lonelier than i already did

and i’m not artistic and i have good grades but if i know anything i know i don’t want to work in an office

but my family told me only people who are super motivated to do something else can get bad grades

and they tell me that will never be me

so i guess i’m going to be sitting in a office at a job i detest but if i’m lucky enough i’ll be in downtown LA or maybe new york

or maybe i’ll blend in with the rest and maybe people will think i’m cool on instagram and i’ll sit around my house on the road to fucking nowhere.

An Ode to My Adolescence

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An ode to my adolescence.

An ode to self-discovery. To the once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that I hope to experience over and over again.

To the sunsets and the waves.

To driving with the windows down, blasting music and singing along.

To the late nights. To the stars.

To always being tired.

To the pile of work that seems to grow bigger and bigger no matter how fast I dig through it.

To the boy who doesn’t call anymore.

To my constant need to impress people, to earn their approval.

To not caring at all, then caring too much.

To my hopes and dreams, which are always changing, but always becoming more exciting.

To my fears. To making mistakes.

To being sixteen years old, an age that I’ve been waiting to be for a very long time.

To my best friends, who make every day worth while, and who are some of the greatest teachers I’ve ever had. I couldn’t imagine better people to spend this time with.

To living in the moment.

People tell us these are the best days of our lives. They pass too quickly.

 

 

 

Hindsight 20/20

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My parents tell me that I broke your heart… but I deny it.

Sometimes, I think about how we used to be. I remember that one night when I texted you asking if you knew any good places to get my guitar fixed. We hadn’t really ever talked that much before this so I was shocked by your answer. “I can fix it for you, what’s your address,” you replied. You drove half an hour to my house to come pick up my guitar. You didn’t just pick up my guitar; you played my piano, talked to me, made me laugh, and told me I had a beautiful voice and you would love to play music with me.

From that night we became closer. I remember how excited I got when you would text me, how nervous I was when you would come over, and how happy I would be when we played music together.

Weeks went by and, even though you lived half an hour away, we’d hang out almost every night after swim practice. I remember my best friend saying how perfect you were for me. At that moment, I agreed. You were an amazing guitarist who was looking for a singer in your band. You were funny and entertaining. You were an amazing swimmer. And, you actually paid attention to me, something I had never really experienced from a guy.

One night, I heard a knock on my door. There you were with a guitar case, my guitar case. I opened it to find my guitar clean, polished, and fixed. I thought you were just going to replace the string that I had snapped. I was shocked. I offered you money, but you wouldn’t take it.

That night, you kissed me. I had kissed people before in dares, spin the bottle, or other stupid party games, but this was my first real kiss. My heart beat a million times a minute, my cheeks were probably bright red, and I remember thinking how perfect that moment was. It’s crazy how much things have changed since then.

I remember how you would surprise me with flowers; how we would sneak into your guest house when your parents were home, so we wouldn’t get caught; the guitar lessons you gave me; and the food you would buy me. I met your whole family. We did a triathlon together. You finished way before me, but as soon as you crossed the finish line, you ran back to do the final stretch with me. When I ran my marathon, you woke up at five am to drive to the starting line and cheer for me and you were their when I crossed the finish line. Then, there was the time you told me you loved me, I said it too.

It seems like everything happened so fast. I had so many firsts with you. I had so many good memories with you. Before this, guys always ignored me, wanted nothing to do with me, and would never want to be part of any relationship with me.  I never thought I would be the one hurting you.

I was happy in the beginning, for the first couple months, but as time went on, something changed. You didn’t change though, you continued to so many nice things for me and be the amazing person you are. You wrote me a song, comforted me when I was down, wrote me letters when I went to sleep away camp, went on hikes with me, and told me I was beautiful. You didn’t change at all, but my feelings did.

I started acting weird. I became a bit distant. I don’t know why I stopped feeling the same for you, it just happened. The day I told my parents I wanted to break up with you they said not to. “He’s so perfect, stick with him,” they said. My mom would get mad when ever I asked her how I could break up with you.

I tried to feel the same way about you again, I really did, but I just couldn’t. The day I broke up with you, you cried. You said you were okay and that it wouldn’t change our friendship, but we both knew that was a lie.

I cried too. I felt like such an awful person. My mom would tell me I deserved to feel that way, because of what I did to you. My best friend would say it too.

It’s been over half a year since we dated, yet its almost like whenever you look at me, you seem sad.  We’re in the same friend group, so I see you sometimes when I’m with my friends. A couple weeks ago, I asked you what was wrong. “Whenever I see you, I just get sad. I get so jealous when I see you with other guys. I still love you,” you said.

Now, we barley talk. It’s awkward when people say your name.

Sometimes I think about how we used to be. My parents tell me that I broke your heart… I don’t deny it.

 

Broken-hearted

I am so numb.  So broken and hopeless.  I feel like my heart is being ripped out, but I also feel nothing.  I loved someone, but it was clearly so one-sided.

We had so many memories that don’t matter anymore. I have no clue what to do.

The most loyal, helpful, best person I thought I had in my life is gone.

“Don’t ever fucking talk to me again,” keeps going through my head.  “Dumb ass bitch,  You don’t know shit.”  How could someone that loved someone say that?  How could they just leave so easily?  How could they not care?

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Why should I even care?  I don’t deserve that, right?

Of course, no one deserves that.

I deserve someone who will love me and stay by my side.  At least, that is what I have been trying to tell myself every since my best friend chose a boy over me.

utterly​ in love

and i’m back to you, like i always am.

i’m sorry i just can’t help it.

you are this perfect person in my life, and the person i want to spend the rest of my life with. and i guess it’s kind of weird for me to say all of this, considering i don’t know you as well as i wish i did, but i’m getting there and i’m so happy.

my eyes light up when i see you, and my smile grows bigger than i ever thought it could.

your name sits in my mind all day, bouncing around as i fantasize about our possible future together. i guess it’s kind of silly, or maybe you find it weird, the thought of me thinking about you all the time, but i care more about you than you know. i always have, and i always will.

that’s the funny thing about love, sometimes it’s sitting right in front of you; all you have to do is reach out and grab it. and, sometimes you do, and others, well, i hope it’s not one of those times. because i think you could learn to love me too.

 

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

 

i’m so utterly in love.

but, it hurts my heart, because i am not sure if you even feel the slightest fraction of what i feel. i’m just hoping you come around.

and even if you don’t, i can still have the thoughts in my mind, about all the amazing, memorable, dream-like, picture-perfect times we could have together.

spending long days together doing whatever we feel like and staring up at the night sky, getting lost in the stars.

god, these thoughts kill me because i want them to be true more than life itself.

but, for the moment, i’m so happy; i’m so so happy and i owe it all to you.

i love you.

and i know it’s summer soon, and we may drift apart but as long as we both hold on tight, i think we will be alright.

My Hypocritical love

I’ve watched you in the sunset

Carefully letting yourself soak in the rain,

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Waiting for the morning to make it all better,

The morning that never came.

 

I’ve watched you tear up

So bitterly, from graceful sadness,

So stabbing and red from crept up anger,

So utterly, from jokes and lies.

 

I’ve watched your eyes go from glowing golden

to stained with red.

All love swept away,

leaving your desperately addictive blood,

for me to seek and find and spit out.

 

“Don’t leave me,” you’ve said too many times,

With trembling hands and pretentious tears.

You’re selfish in the most delicate way, you know,

Agonizing and cool, burning for undivided attention.

 

So I want nothing but to watch you cry and soak,

And I do it too, because I am just like you.

“Don’t leave me,” I exhale towards the plain, shut door,

In sweet despair of your silky soul.