I cannot put my ideas together… My thoughts are like stars that cannot fathom into constellations. —The Fault In Our Stars by John Green

You make me think about things. You make me wonder why I’m not interesting enough for you. I’m sitting here just thinking about why I’m not good enough, and what I can do about it. But whatever it is that I can do: I wouldn’t be able to fix in time, and that breaks my heart that I can’t be good enough for you, or me, in time.

Because there really just isn’t any time to claim as mine.

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The idea of me is not what you should have been chasing after. You should not have asked me out, talked to me because it seemed to be fun, because all of your friends were doing it, no. You’re not allowed to abuse me that way. You’re supposed to approach me because you want to get to know me, because you care about me, because I might matter to you.

But your motives are all over the place and I’m not okay with being a way for you to fit in.

I have no hope in you, so I guess that means I’m hopeless for us. But still, my stomach aches and my heart flutters with every moment that you enter my mind. I can’t stop thinking about you and sitting next to you, wanting you to hold me and to just love me.

I’ve truly lost it this time, huh?

Typing it out was like admitting it to the world. Though it was a private conversation: exposure was the only word to describe the feeling of being stripped naked, uncovered, unprotected and then visible. Redness rushed up her neck and into her cheeks as prickly numbness send shivers down her back. Her heart’s honesty was now out in the open and there was no way to fence it back in. Hoping for a peaceful heart mind and soul is one thing, but achieving it is another. And that is a path of pure madness.

love seems to bring peace into our souls and minds. it is supposed to awaken us and bring us alive. or that’s just what it may feel like after a long fight with madness.

And then I sit here, numbing my sore calves against this wooden chair. Thises and Thats and Thems and Theres are jumbling through my head and nothing comes into focus. So I lock myself away from the bright yellowing lamp and I remind myself that I will always be lonely. Because no one appreciates crazy.