May 13, 2012

"For the girl who loves somebody else"

Hi, call me "Generic" or "Emotional" or maybe "A Little Bit Of Everything."

Do you ever do something you regret? Something that you know you shouldn't have done in the first place? I hope you haven't, but I think everyone has. I'm trying to turn those regrets into laughter and good stories.

My body is shutting down and running on a short three hours of sleep and long nineteen hours of work.

I'm not good at writing about things other than people and feelings. And this is about all of those people and all of those feelings. I know I've been repetitive since the beginning of time, but at least I am being honest, right? I wish I could use names and tell every person everything I need to, but I ain't that brave yet sista; I just ain't.

I'm trying to tell you that I've been hurt because of things, but I don't know how to say it. I think I'm breaking my own heart. All you'd say is, "I feel bad. I'm sorry" like you do every other time. The thing is, nothing changes. I thought "sorry" meant change. Alright, I don't always follow that rule either, but I'm the exception to the rule. Everyone is the exception to the rule.

Those eyes of yours? They pierce. And for some darn reason I still care. I can't figure out why we fight so much, and yet you always say, "friends" when it comes down to it. Is it because you feel bad? But if you do is it for you? Or for me? You're worth more than who you think is worth the world realizes; you're worth more than them. I just want to know when you'll open those cobalt eyes of yours and see it. I don't think she loves you. I'm sorry.

My feelings have been hurt and to be honest that doesn't happen very often. I'm getting tired of being treated as if I were only there for them to pick on and toss around like a hackie sac in the seventies. I'm no tile on the floor, "I'm a human being--like you."

Stop saying things that you know contradict how I think or feel about something and then luring me back in with those eyelashes when you're feeling lonely. I'm here for you, so just be consistent and hold onto my forearm or turn your back and let go for good. Between the hours of seven and three my almost olive skin becomes glass--completely clear to you. Eventually, you'll realize that I'm alright.

Despite all of the bad, I hold on to all of you because (let's take a moment to be a cliche) you're my family. Every single one of you is a specific piece of my person. On my hands there is a knuckle for all of you, and a clavicle for the closest ones. You've shaped me. I mean, I've shaped me, but you've helped. In both the good and the bad, but that's how it's supposed to be.

I loved every little piece of last night. It smelt like summer and it reminded me what it was like to be a teenager. It's a good life, really darlings, it is. I miss you already, but for now, I'm breathing fine.

Oh yeah, thank you for holding me close. I needed it and I knew it wasn't just out of spite. I even thought about it all day; maybe. Just come back, okay?

I wish I said, "I love you" more when people were actually listening. That's something I'll work on.

So here's to the girl who loves somebody else, and to the boy who won't look you in the eyes:

Here's to high school and to art and to YOU.


1 comment:

That One Redhead said...

Here's the deal.
You start teaching writing classes
to yummy boys,
then make them write me&all the lonely girls,
love letters.

(I'll pay you in backbends and hats?)

This [You] is excellent.