2.7.18
I searched through my computer, desperately trying to find something.
Instead, as always, I found something else; something I wasn't looking for.
It was a conversation I didn't remember having until all of a sudden, it was there on my screen for myself to scroll through and slip myself into that space.
Junior year- simultaneously the best and worst time of my life; I thought this sentiment then and I still strongly agree with it now, after two years have passed.
I was in a weird time in my life, shifting between half-dead and half-alive, floating between these two states of being, unsure of which I truly belonged. Within this transition laid the potential of a relationship, another serious, soul-sucking relationship to sip me slowly until I was dry.
By then, I had learned I didn't want anything serious- I wanted fun and careless and free and wild and happy.
The happiness was what I craved most of all.
We were talking and talking and talking, all about this leech who was eager to attach herself to me and take all of the love I should only reserve for myself.
This was a time where words were just words but then actions came along and now I'm not sure which is more important, because I hang onto words and place them as high as I can in the sky to hold onto with all of my strength, but actions knock them down and I come crashing back to an Earth-shattering reality I didn't want.
You didn't want something serious either, because really, what's the point at that age? Finally, we shared the same page, ink seeping in, not a dot or crossed t missed.
Flashforward a year following that conversation and you're almost settling into exactly what you said you didn't want, no, not at this age. If you skip a couple pages and race towards now, you're where you didn't want to be.
Things change and people change and feelings do, too, but the words never do.
And then the Earth-shattering reality releases my grip and I realize this:
It's not that you didn't want a serious relationship- it's that you didn't want it with me.
Instead, as always, I found something else; something I wasn't looking for.
It was a conversation I didn't remember having until all of a sudden, it was there on my screen for myself to scroll through and slip myself into that space.
Junior year- simultaneously the best and worst time of my life; I thought this sentiment then and I still strongly agree with it now, after two years have passed.
I was in a weird time in my life, shifting between half-dead and half-alive, floating between these two states of being, unsure of which I truly belonged. Within this transition laid the potential of a relationship, another serious, soul-sucking relationship to sip me slowly until I was dry.
By then, I had learned I didn't want anything serious- I wanted fun and careless and free and wild and happy.
The happiness was what I craved most of all.
We were talking and talking and talking, all about this leech who was eager to attach herself to me and take all of the love I should only reserve for myself.
This was a time where words were just words but then actions came along and now I'm not sure which is more important, because I hang onto words and place them as high as I can in the sky to hold onto with all of my strength, but actions knock them down and I come crashing back to an Earth-shattering reality I didn't want.
You didn't want something serious either, because really, what's the point at that age? Finally, we shared the same page, ink seeping in, not a dot or crossed t missed.
Flashforward a year following that conversation and you're almost settling into exactly what you said you didn't want, no, not at this age. If you skip a couple pages and race towards now, you're where you didn't want to be.
Things change and people change and feelings do, too, but the words never do.
And then the Earth-shattering reality releases my grip and I realize this:
It's not that you didn't want a serious relationship- it's that you didn't want it with me.
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