Late Night Thoughts

I can't go to sleep because I'm thinking of you.

I should probably write this in a more private place ... or not write it at all. I should probably just let it die inside of my brain, but I can't get your face out of my head. I can't get these feelings out of my skin. I wish I could get it out some other way, but the only thing I know how to do is write.

I've never been good at expressing myself, or of doing the right thing at the right time. In fact, I'm quite bad at it. I can't tell a good joke without fumbling over the words, and I couldn't keep you with the right words to save my life. Maybe I shouldn't want to be a writer. Maybe I should just give up.

But sometimes, when this happens (and it hasn't happened in a really long time), there is nothing more for me to do. Writing is what made you so real in my heart, and what made you jump out of my head into my life. Because you're everywhere. In the notebooks I doodle on, to the phrases I scribble out, nothing more than incoherent sentences on scrap paper. And no one has ever made me feel like this.

I'm not in love, no. Not anymore. I'm convinced I'll never love again, if I ever loved at all. My heart feels so big sometimes ... like it'll pop on one of my ribs if it grew any larger inside of my chest. But I'm convinced that I've never loved to my full potential, and that I've never shown anyone everything I have to offer.

Maybe this is why I hold on to you so much. Because you are the one person in this world that I've ever met that I feel like I can express this to, or that I could ever show, not just in words but in actions. I'd open everything up to you and everything would glow in a golden light.

Its good I got this out. If you ever read this, maybe you'll understand. Maybe you'll understand that I'm crazy and confused. I don't know who I am. I don't know what I want. I want to pretend like I'm certain of everything, but the only thing I know for sure is that everything is the way its supposed to be, and I've used that to mask the fact that I don't like that I don't have you.

There. I said it. I don't have you.

And I'm not saying I want you. I'm just upset that I never had a choice in the matter.