The feeling of being yours, yet being unable to call you mine.
I get it now. From the start it’s like you’ve made up your mind. That you didn’t want anything to do with me.
Maybe I knew this feeling would come, and try to rip more out of whatever is left of my heart, which you had left in pieces. You knew, too, that I never stood a chance.
So why didn’t I regret a thing?
For once, love didn’t feel like a mistake. Not with you. I’m one of those people who thought they were better off not having met the ones who nearly broke them, but if I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t be who I am now.
Do you know of this feeling? I bet not. You never seemed to like poetry, so you probably won’t understand the sadness that has begun to swallow me whole, ever since I tried to explain what it is about you that I find lovable enough to hold on to you desperately, and keep you from slipping away.
So I would tell you instead: I love you. Not because I want you to love me, too, but because you made me realize that my heart is still capable of loving someone.
It’s been five months since we first talked, and I thought that by now I may be getting to know a little side of you. But in all honesty, I can’t figure out whether reaching out to you is the right decision or not.
Back then, you seemed a bit interested in me, like you didn’t mind if I make an effort to talk to you everyday. But all that changed. You changed. I once saw you as a person who’s too nice to brush off other people’s feelings, but now, it seemed that everything about me doesn’t matter to you.
Till then, I won’t be letting you go.
I love you too much, but not enough, to do so.
Please hang in there… and allow my feelings to reach you.
You sat by the window, and I looked at you from outside. If you hadn’t given me the same cold stare I see in your eyes whenever we meet, I would’ve smiled at you.
But meeting me was something you can’t stand,
and I knew I was right when you averted your gaze and closed the curtain.
But I’m used to it by now. There are times when you seemed happy to be with me, and times when I sense annoyance in your face.
And I knew that it would take some time to figure you out. I would never know the real meaning behind your smile, or if it’s really okay for you to take a picture with me after turning me down the first time. I don’t understand how you can smile like that when you stand so near the person who seemed desperate to talk to you everyday, but doesn’t have the guts to walk up to you today.
Sometimes I wished you’d be a little meaner to me, then maybe I could get over you easily. But most of the time I just think of how you’re really worth it, and how nothing could ever compare to the warm feeling I get every time I sense the coldness in your eyes.
P.S. shit getting so repetitive tho I'm inspired today because we finally have a decent picture together 🙂
I didn’t see you today. I realized when I saw your friend walking alone that you aren’t here. It’s weird because you’re always with him, and it gets me thinking,
“hey, that guy must know everything about you”
You probably talk to him about anything but me. I can’t imagine you getting excited into telling your friends that I’m into you because, though it may not seem like it, you don’t actually care. But I do. So much that with every sound my phone makes I’m hoping to see your reply.
I want to know why you’re not here.
You have this bad boy demeanor written all over you but I thought for sure that you are kind. Indeed, you were nice enough to reply to my messages every night and light up a smile on your face every time we meet. We never talked, and I was fine with it for some time. But then it came when some sort of coldness grew between us. Seeing you is how I complete my day, and I can’t help but be upset with how you don’t even have the heart to do just that. It was the moment I realized you not only made me happy, but also very unbearably sad.
I want to know what you see in those eyes.
Beautiful pair of eyes whose light sparkled through the darkness of my heart, despite of the cold stares you’ve been giving me all this time.
I was afraid… afraid of what enters your mind whenever they set upon me, the idea of those fiery orbs burning with emotions yet unknown, silently killing me with unspoken words.
But I’m more terrified by the fact that somehow, the cold look in those eyes made me feel warm.