I’m a teenager. I’m young. Free. Wild. My life is just beginning.
But for most of my life so far I’ve just been wondering when the emotional tornado which is my life was going to start feeling good. When all the scared of failure, screaming, fighting, petty high school drama, drunk dialling, risky texts and stuff was going to start being the best years of my life. My life so far has been littered with heartbreak, success, failure, love. And what I mean about heartbreak is my “maybe” man. The boy who was very much in my life but just was never really there for me. Never really fully there.
I think you have been my most painful part of life. My “maybe love”. It’s just been quite exhausting. I just think I need to realise I can be fine alone. The maybes you gave me felt like a lukewarm shower. Because you wanted to have me but not have me fully. You wanted to keep me around but not make me your girlfriend. Or make it official. Or give me any clarity. You just wanted to give me a maybe, not a yes. And I guess I’ve realised that maybe hurts a lot more than just no.
I feel like screaming “I’ve wasted my life with you” when it’s only been two years. The worst part is that you aren’t even a necessarily bad guy. You’re a bit of a mess, but who isn’t? You’re pretty much a sweetheart who can’t make up their own mind. But my complacency left untouched becomes bitterness. And I can’t help but hate you.
I wish I felt apathetic about being with you. But it’s all I want. Everyone keeps telling me I’ll find someone else. But in another life I would be your girl. And I can’t help but want this life to be that other life. Sure, I’ll meet new boys. But will they smile when I get mad. Will they just pass me a cereal bar instead of getting mad when I get mad. Will they know I just get mad when I’m hungry.
I just can’t wait for that text anymore. That call. Because, you know, maybe hurts. Turns out it hurts a lot more than just getting a no. I wish you had told me no.
That’s quite a harsh statement, isn’t it? I wish you had told me no. I mean. I do. But I still probably wouldn’t want to change anything. But right now my mood is utter crap. It feels like you texting me back after 3 days. It’s you saying you might come over but you never actually turning up. It’s the apathy in your touch on my hand. It’s something you don’t want to remember. Like I said, it’s a lukewarm shower.
So please take your 2am reply and shove it up your ***. Because if I’m gonna have a shower that’s lukewarm, I’d rather just be dirty.