Not Just a Bunch of Pretty Words on a Page | Teen Ink

Not Just a Bunch of Pretty Words on a Page

January 29, 2010
By elisabethphoenix GOLD, Louisville, Kentucky
elisabethphoenix GOLD, Louisville, Kentucky
18 articles 0 photos 21 comments

Favorite Quote:
proverbs 31:30 :D


I wish I could go back to before I knew you. Before I ever caught a glimpse of your beautiful face. Before this pain struck my cold heart. Before I watched all my hopes shatter. I'm going to start by saying no offense, but no offense really just means that I'm going to offend you and don’t want you to get too mad.

Not that you haven’t been great. Oh, no, trust me, you have. That’s where the problem lies. Your greatness. It’s so incredibly great, your greatness, that is. So great, in fact, that every girl notices and wants you for her own. But not like you care. It’s not your style. To react to the swarms would be to break the cool, and you don’t break the cool, no matter the circumstances.

All these feelings make me want to hurl. Emotions tangled with the motions of the world. I get sick in someone’s car; its just motion sickness, they’ll say. Sure, my head is spinning, but not because of the changing scenery blurring by. I instinctively turn up the radio to drown out my thoughts… “We should get jerseys ‘cause we make a good team, but yours would look better than mine ‘cause you’re out of my league.” I turn it back down again.

Another day goes by and I feel the slight hold I may have had on you start to slip. I find out I'm not the marrying type, don’t like all the housework. I watch you watching her. You know, she’s much more suitable than I. They all are.

Will I ever be around when you drop this façade? I highly doubt it, very unlikely it seems, because I'm not the one you want to be around. I begin to feel unworthy to glance your way, much less speak to you. What a mess I’ve become. I hate everything you do to me. I hate how you never fail to make me terribly nervous just by looking my direction. I hate it all. Yes, hate is a strong word, you say. But the way I feel is nothing short of strongly.

I hate every bit of it, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Living without you is like living without God. It’s stupid. So I’ll try to forget about you, to leave my past behind. But haven’t I done that enough? I run from anything that hurts anything that requires some emotion. Even though I may never say all this to your face, this is how I truly feel. Sorry, it’s just the way I see things; and if you think this is about you, you are sadly mistaken.


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