Archive for the ‘Love’ Category

The Grooves of His Skin

Saturday, May 4th, 2013

The longer you know someone, the more you begin to realize some very intricate details about them. Why is this exactly? Well, if you would ask me, I would say that you’re too used to each other, and you find yourself looking for something new. Every second I spend in his presence, I recognize the things I already know. I know that his toes are very boney, and his legs are particularly skinny. His shoulders fill out his body with their muscle, bringing me shelter and comfort. I could trace my fingers along his body completely blind, and I would comprehend every direction, every feature, probably even better than I can my own. He is the other half of myself and I know him in ways I cannot describe, but you see, it comes to this point that I know him so well, it’s almost too well. I need to find something new, and if you look hard enough, you can almost always find something you have never seen before. Lately, I find myself study the direction that his hair grows. I look at the pores of his face, to evaluate where he would have acne if he had hormones like I do. I could imagine that sounds rather strange, but I could also say that our relationship is very different, at least I’ve been told. Now imagine this: each of us have the individual pattern of our skin. Each are different, there is not one person with that same print. That is the one thing that is particularly special to him. I believe that if I took the time to study this hard enough, I would have created the strongest connection with him that I ever could find. I can match the love that radiates between each grove of my finger print, as I trace it along each familiar part, finding love in each of his. We were specially made, this is a fact, but not everyone seems to realize that we were specially made for each other.

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That Awful Name.

Friday, March 8th, 2013

I’m young, right? Too young, a lot of people would say. “Fifteen year old girl, and she’s sexually active, wow, she must be such a slut.” Yeah, I know, I’ve heard it a million times. It never seemed to stop me. After all, just because I’m having sex does not mean I’m a slut, or a whore, or anything like that. But that is not what this is about at all.

As I’ve said about a million times, I’m in a very serious, loving relationship with a boy who is seventeen. I’m am a sophomore in high school, and he is a senior. I think it’s fair to say that the two of us are helplessly in love. But of course, like any other group of teenagers, we lust for each other too. There are times where him and I are left alone, and the atmosphere becomes warm, and somehow the sexual tension pulls the two of us together, regardless of the intentions. That’s naturally expected, especially at this age, with the hormones that we have. My boyfriend and I have had sex quite a few times during our relationship. I know how this looks. I used to look at other people this was. The situation changes when it’s personal, I guess I could conclude. As an outsider, you witness these kids around you, irresponsibly having sex, making children, all of that. It’s frustrating to be cast into that group under simple assumption, and you’re put into the position where you can’t exactly lie, because it’s not something you want to do. People already assume you’re sexually active, because you look happy, or “too happy,” which is simply ridiculous. My best friend for instance, refers to these kinds of couple as “looking like sex.” I guess she has made that perception based on the fact that when a boy and a girl are so close in their relationship, they’re so together. Do you know what I mean? They move like one person. And that’s understandable because the connection between two people after sharing something so passionate can be very apparent. I seem to be losing my purpose in this. My point it, I suppose that people look at my boyfriend and I, and they see a connection that is as strong as the sex that we have. But I hate that sentence too because it’s not just sex. It’s not just some guy that I met that I decided I wanted to have intercourse with. This is someone who puts the joy in my life. He’s the definition to my happiness, even though I know better than to make a person you’re pure happiness. It happened anyway. He’s the one that will do anything for me, just because I ask, or even when I don’t. He never ceases to surprise me. He makes me bad days better. The power in our love is more than just sex. That’s my point, I guess. I don’t have sex with my boyfriend. I make love to him. We don’t just fuck, put our clothes back on, and go on with our lives. We undress, we kiss, we make love, and when it’s all said and done, we enjoy the silent, beautiful moments where our naked bodies lie so close to each other. That’s our favorite part. The passion, the connection, and the beauty is what makes this more than just another stupid, careless, horny couple. We are set apart from the rest of these people. People notice, and I’m given the names. I’m the slut, the whore, the whatever other awful name they can come up with. And it’s awful. It’s hurtful. It slaughters my self esteem. People should not be seeing me that way. There is a lot more to me as a person. No person that has ever established that label with my name will understand the explanation I just gave of a very distinct difference between what they see, and what is actually going on. So the names will continue. I just wish they would stop. They’re tearing me apart.

What is love?

Sunday, February 3rd, 2013

I ponder these irrefutable topics on a regular basis. Love is a question that should never be answered. It never makes any sense, and it never works the way it should. However, I am positive, regardless of my age, that I know what this “love” thing is. Yeah, sure, laugh it up. “Oh, the fifteen-year-old is in love” ha ha. You know what? Yes I am. I believe with all of my heart that I am in love. I don’t know that I have ever been given a pure example of what exactly this “love” thing is, but I still have enough common sense to comprehend the way I feel about this boy. I also believe that I have loved many things in my life. For instance, I love my mom, and the rest of my family, my friends, certain teachers, competitive cheerleading, creating music, creative writing; all of these things have occurred to me as “love”. It’s passion; a warm fuzzy feeling that fills you up from the inside, completing a certain amount of happiness that each of us needs to live our lives. I believe I have finally determined the difference between this concept of “love” and being “in love”. The way it feels to be in love is near indescribable. I will try my best for you, but I don’t quite know how.

When you meet a this certain person–your soulmate, for all intensive purposes– a field of energy pulls you to this person. The attraction between these two people forms from solely a physical connection, to an emotional bond. I’m sure you’ve heard it described in comparison to magnets. Essentially, that is exactly what it is like. Over time, you feel as if every force in the universe has the intentions of pulling you in the direction of this “soulmate”. When you reach this realization that you are in love with this person, every cell in your body is filled with euphoria compassion, understanding, passion, and in bits, lust for a connection beyond an human intelligence I am aware of. All of these emotions bond into one concept we refer to as love. The “in” part could almost refer the infatuation. In such a short amount of time, love aligns every moment you’ve ever known. You need them, they need you, it’s a constant cycle of need. They complete every sentence, every thought, every second and not a single thing makes sense without them. As more time passes, you realize there is no possible way you could ever live without them in your life. So what if I’m fifteen-years-old? Have I not just presented that I am in love. I am so in love. For those of you with no belief in this emotion, or even the idea of a soulmate, please do not give up yet. I am one of the few, but so lucky people to have met the love of my life at such a young age. You can ask me, “How do you know?” You just know. There is no other feeling to compare. In love is in love, and nothing can ever change that, ever. 

I love him. I love him more than I can explain, I will take any ridicule I receive for this confidence, but I know that I am in love with him, and there is no other person that I would like to spend the rest of my life with than him. He is the love of my life. I have can answer the question I have presented as my topic. I know the meaning of love. it is the most beautiful thing in the world. 

Short-Tempered

Wednesday, January 30th, 2013

If I could climb inside your head, just for today, that sure would answer a lot of questions. Your random angry outburst and unexplainable frustration makes a lack of sense to me. But then again, I can’t make sense of something I’m not aware of. Obviously, you’re angry, I know that you’re angry at something. This is probably something that has absolutely nothing to do with me, but somehow, you’re taking all of this out on me. That’s basically what happened with R*****, except I don’t see you committing suicide. You’re not that angry … At least I hope you’re not. I asked you to talk to me and you tell me your don’t want to. Well then, I guess I can’t help you. I pity you honestly, because there is nothing fun about keeping everything bottled up inside, but you’re taking it out on me and I don’t appreciate that. You’re my boyfriend, you’re suppose to love me, not hate me without any kind of explanation. But I guess, if you don’t want to speak to me, then there is nothing I can do but wait patiently for you to finally tell me what’s going on. I fight back because I worry about you, and I’m sorry, but you know I’m short-tempered too. 

I Wish.

Friday, January 25th, 2013

My ex treated me very poorly, I’m not even going to attempt to sugar coat that, but he had some qualities traits that not a lot of guys have. Maybe that’s why I held on for so long, but that’s not the point. Every time he was here, he always wanted to be with me. Always. My current boyfriend is the best person I have ever met. He is the epitome of perfection, but sometimes I find things that my ex could offer that my boyfriend can not. I’m feeling lonesome right now, and he left my room to go play Black Ops 2 with my thirteen year old sister. In times like this, I think to myself, “I wish you could be like N*** for just three seconds.” But only sometimes. The other times, I find it hard to complain. I love this boy very much.

My Boyfriend

Thursday, January 24th, 2013

My Boyfriend

I adore this picture of the two of us. I never can understand why. It’s the ridiculous looking picture that you always seem to cherish the most, and I suppose that’s why I like it so much. Yes, anonymous me is allowing you to see a bit of my face. I’m not very good at keeping my appearance a secret.

As if I know you.

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013

It’s funny really, how long ago it was that I could call myself your girlfriend.

Image

You guys have to understand, this was my first real relationship. Sure, I was only a freshman in high school, but this puppy love consumed my life, and I was so devastated when he broke my heart. I never stopped to realize that their was a bigger and better love out there waiting for me. But this is not what I’m writing about, I just thought some previous background may be necessary.

As I mentioned before, this ex-boyfriend of mine was best friends with the boy from my school that hung himself a few days ago. Through my relationship with my boyfriend, I had gotten to know this boy pretty well, and this loss is tragic. Regardless, right now I am concerned more so about my ex-boyfriend. I’ve haven’t ever watched him cope with death, because the death of another student from out school that affected our lives was not at the time when him and I were together, but after a year of being his love and his best friend, I learned a great deal of things about him. I know his moods, his body language, his facial expressions; all of that stuff. Today was our first day back to school since this boy’s death. I wasn’t sure if I would be seeing my ex in school today… In all honesty, I hate referring to him as that, because yes, that is what relation he has to me, but he is also a best friend to me, to this very day and someone who I care very deeply for, keep that in mind. Anyway, like I said, I wasn’t sure if I would see him in school today, though I was desperately hoping I would, because I was very worried about him, since I had not heard from him since the night we talked on the phone after receiving news of this boy’s death. After entering the school this morning and breaking down into a fit of tears, I thought their was no possible way that he could make it through today if all I had done was walk through the door and began to cry. But much to the surprise of many people, not only was my ex in school today, but so was this boy’s girlfriend, who had found him hanging. This sent shock waves through the school, trying to watch her cope with this pain. After seeing her, I knew my ex was in school. We have fourth period together, and the moment I walked into the room, I saw him being hugged by two other boys in our class. Right after I had walked to my desk to put down my stuff, my ex and I were in each other’s arms. I haven’t hugged him since two months after we broke up seven months ago. Even that was a long time ago. Both of us burst into tears. And you know what? Even though it was clear that he had more right to suffer than I had he asked me, “Are you okay?” He asked me. And it was in that moment that I swore I loved him once again. I remembered every reason I ever had to love him solely because he asked me when I should have been asking him. There is no other person like him. I will love him always, despite anything that has happened between him and I in the past. There are no more cards left for either of us to play in the terms of a relationship, but we will forever love each other deeply, and I genuinely, sincerely mean that. But even now, so much time has past. i know more of who he used to be, and less of who he is now. I do understand him at times where others do not, because I know the innocent childlike side of him, but the shield he has put up now is too tough to break. I will forever love him, but it’s that weaker, innocent side of him that I treasure. The other, more predominant side is unfamiliar. And that is a territory I will not attempt to enter. As if he would let me in anyway. As if I know him.

Always a Disappointment. Always.

Monday, January 21st, 2013

It troubles me greatly when I become excited for my boyfriend to spend the night with me. He can give me the comfort that not a single other person in this world. Then, his mother always says no. There is no harm. What would be wrong with that? I’m curious, honestly, what would be wrong with him sleeping at my house. My mom has never said no. She trusts us. Then, in result of her no, I become exceedingly angry with my boyfriend. It’s not his fault, and I know this. I really do know this. But he is the one who got my hopes up in the first place. Not to mention, the whole point of him being here today was to comfort me. He has probably spent at least 60% of his time with my sister instead. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he has this connection with her that none of my other boyfriends have had, so I try not to complain, but I just wish it could be him and I. And I wish his mother would start treating him like he’s actually 17, instead of 7.