i feel lost roaming the halls of my school.
it was like when my mother decided to give me make up for christmas. i stared at the box filled with colors for hours and kept asking myself, 'what am i suppose to do with this?'
that was how i felt. i watched people pass by me, most of them couples, sneaking in hugs and kisses in between classes, and i do not resent them, nor am i envious. i respect them- hell, i even praise them. they are people who are already experiencing something im starting to fear i never will.
'what am i supposed to do with this?'
i dont know.
-
my friend, she is only a year younger than me, but she has the heart of a child. and that heart seems to have already experienced shattering into pieces far too much, and i wonder how she puts herself together each time it breaks.
she gushes to me, gushes, can you believe that? ive never used that word to describe how someone talks, but that is exactly what she does. she pours out her emotions without taking a breath, and i cant help but imagine that each word she says is vomit escaping her mouth. what was she gushing about this time?
a boy that had captured her heart.
she then goes on and lists every single imperfection of his that made him absolutely perfect for her. and i couldnt wrap my head around the words she was saying.
because he is distant it made him seem intimate?
because he sees you as someone special means that you are?
because he treats you like you deserve the world, but have you ever thought of anything you truly deserved?
how can you trust him when trust has deluded your vision, tricking you into falling into something that seems so real to you, avoiding the inevitable end that you know will come?
perhaps its the sense of that- that her time is limited for this day and age. she says she is in love, but i know time will prove her otherwise. i will not be there, by that time, to pick up her pieces. all i can do now is to acknowledge her happiness as if it was my own.
i would rather much want to feel that happiness she feels for something as utterly confusing as the emotion of 'love'.
YOU ARE READING
thoughts of an aromantic
Non-Fiction"What's wrong with you?" he asked me. There that sentence hung in the air between us, and I remember now how I wasn't looking at him. How instead I looked up at the clouds that seemed to run faster than my thoughts. "Yeah, there's a word for it," I...
