Post by Gypsy on Oct 6, 2015 19:06:38 GMT -8
I..am not typical.
I never have been.
I’m not that girl that’s going to swoon over babies and wedding rings. You won’t find me passive aggressively leaving those bridal magazines on the coffee table hoping you’ll notice. Hell, I’m not even sure I’ve ever known how to love in any ‘proper’ fashion. I’m a secret locked up tight that practically takes a degree to unlock. But man…once you’re in? It’s so hard to get you out.
I can count on one hand the people I’ve really let in. I can name them in an instant.
The sister who I adored and idolized as a little girl but could never quite let back in the same way as the years drifted us apart; it’s never going to matter how many days pass by, I miss you in each and every one of them. I’m so sorry.
The boy fighting against tradition, with flashy moves who complemented everything and wild about my own self; you kisses tasted like soju, but our love was never the romantic kind. I miss our clothing mountain floors and glitter parties.
The smug narcissist that guarded over me as I grew and later taught me everything I’ve come to know about love and heartbreak; what the fuck do I even so to him now? Thanks for the memories.
The red head that….that….is still my best friend, through everything; I don’t have words. She is the comfortable silence we must all come to appreciate.
Then there are those I didn’t love, but maybe I could have.
The handsome boy who stole away my ‘innocence’ when there was nothing innocent about me or those hard kisses and flesh ravaging nails; it was never a big deal to me, but you were. You left scars on me. You do so lovey our scars.
The smart ass guy that made deals and battered for fun. The first person to give me reason to hesitate. You reminded me what worthy felt like after heartbreak; I don’t know what it could have been like but sometimes I wonder.
The pretty mermaid with your seafoam hair and lips that I craved like salt; what a fucking ride you were.
And there are those that just aren’t named…because they’re a god damned given. Like brothers, or members of Families we don’t always mention anymore.
We don’t talk about the ones I thought could be trusted. Tiny black dots of cancer I may never quite shake.
…where was I even going with all of this? I don’t even remember anymore.
Point is? I’m not easy to love. I know it. And there are even layers of me nobody has really ever unlocked or see. Might be that nobody ever will. But difficult or not? I’m still fucking worth it.
Nobody can take that from me. Nobody.
I spent a month wondering what the fuck I was going to do. A month. A whole fucking month. And what did I get for it? I want to say nothing, but that’s not the truth. Fact is, I got a lot more than I bargained for. I learned who I was again. I remembered what the hell I was doing here on this earth in the first place. It sure as fuck wasn’t to play pet to someone that might have loved me, but never really saw me as equal. I’m not the kind of girl to play house, so what the fuck was I even doing? Being something I’m not, that’s what.
I’m the girl that catches fire and burns the whole damn place down with a kiss.
It’s time to strike the match.
