She was angry.
She was jealous.
She was furious that I still had some humanity left in me.
Humanity that she couldn’t take.
She was angry.
She was jealous.
She was furious that I still had some humanity left in me.
Humanity that she couldn’t take.
I was looking back at a conversation I had earlier and my response to a certain question bothered me a bit.
J-“Do you like her? Like like her like her?”
Me-“She’s straight :)”
Why should that matter? Why should it matter what sexual orientation a person is. Feelings exist and they don’t discriminate.
So what if I might have feelings for her? Just because she might not be able to return them, it doesn’t mean they don’t matter or that they are any less valid than someone who likes another person who likes them back.
So if you’ll excuse me, brain. Im going to continue liking her. I’m going to enjoy the smile I get when I see her post something on my dash. I’m going to enjoy the thumping of my heart every time I see her face. I’m going to enjoy this. And I will mourn it when it is gone, but at least I got to feel.
Because I’m not there.
The best part is the struggle. The struggle reminds you that you’re alive. The struggle reminds you that you’re still trying.
But you must remember that it is okay to struggle.
She was the kind of girl that liked to drink tea and read books all night. I liked drinking coffee and kissing strangers for the thrill of it.
Can you feel the things I feel
Right now, with you
Take my hand
There’s a world I need to know
I knew that it looked as if I was angry at her for being happy. The truth couldn’t have been more opposite. I was happy that she was happy. I was just jealous that it wasn’t me that she was happy with.
I like films that allow subtitles, because I’d rather read than listen.
I loved them all in different ways, but I still loved them. And I loved them a lot.
I loved Samantha in the way that I wanted her to know. I wanted her to know it, and I meant it in a different way than I was willing to say it. I wanted her to know and I didn’t care where I said it or who saw it.
I loved Ori in a more private way. I wasn’t ashamed of the love I had for her, nor did I want to hid it. I love her differently to the others, deeper, longer. I love Ori in a way that I could say 3 simple words, and that would be all I needed to say everything I felt. I love her in the way that I could never let her go. In the way that I needed her,and that having her around, made me happier than anything or anyone else ever could.
And Julie…I loved her in a similar way to Ori, but a few shelves down. I wasn’t allowed to love her anymore than she wanted, because if I did, she pushed me away. And I learned that. The love I had for Julie I was willing to speak out loud, to make silly posts about, because she was okay with it.
And Clare…The love I had for Clare was terrifying. It was confusing and so easily misunderstood. I wasn’t afraid to say it though. But showing it…showing it was another story, and one wrong move meant she was gone.
