🎀 My Sort Of Delulu 🎀

How can I tell you all of my feelings

How can I explain how I feel for you in just one sentence.

I have more thoughts in my head than grains of sand on a beach.

I have more feeling than anyone could ever truly understand.

I don’t even think I understand.

You know so much about me,

but yet you know nothing about me.

You let me share my thoughts and truths and didn’t invalidate a single one.

Why?

Because you aren’t an indecent human?

Because you treated me like a person should be treated?

Why?

I don’t understand.

We share these glances of love.

Is it love?

Is it something else?

Am I mistaking love for friendship?

Or friendship for kindness?

Or kindness for decency?

I may never truly know.

I look at you a way you would never understand.

Never comprehend.

I imagine a future with you that you would never imagine with me.

Or would you?

I will never know because I ran.

I ran from the possibilities of everything we could’ve been.

From everything we should’ve been.

But should we even have been anything?

I say something harmful towards myself and you tell me not to, but why not?

Human decency?

We’ve made these jokes before with no regrets.

What has changed?

Us?

Me?

Would you really care if I died?

If I decided to take my own life,

Would you cry?

Or would you just ignore it.

Ignore me.

Keep quiet.

I hate the quiet.

I don’t speak and you don’t speak.

I can catch a sideways glance on occasion.

If we meet eyes, who will be the first to look away?

An accidental touch is like a burn to my skin.

You quickly pull away like I am a forbidden sin.

Then there are those not so rare times.

Those rare times you blow up at me.

Those are the times that not even I want to be around you.

Why?

Because you are just like every boy I’ve ever met.

You are aggressive.

You are violent.

You are mean.

But only when you want to be.

Only when your true colors are showing.

Then you manipulate, and try and make the situation better for you by changing the topic.

By pointing out a bird in the road.

Or the music on the radio.

Even though these rare times hurt deep inside, and trigger memories of a past time.

I’ve told you about my past times. 

So why would you do it? 

Do you know I’ll forgive you anyways?

For some odd reason I don’t even mind.

Why don’t I?

I should.

But I allow myself to go back to toxicity.

Because we have some sort of good history?

Oh gosh, is this it?

Is this the delusion you see on TV?

Do you want to know the sad reality?

This is a delusional mentality.