Behind the Eyes of a Hopeless Romantic
It happened again.
Last night my mind started getting the best of me. It was my roommates birthday and we had gone downtown to celebrate with some friends. After about an hour at the club I had ducked away from everybody and went out the backdoor to make a phone call. I’m really bad about drunk texting/calling so I already knew this was going to be a bad idea. Still, I just couldn’t help myself.
I found a well lit alley way and posted up against the wall talking to this girl on the phone when an officer rolled up next to me. At first he paid me no mind, but after things started getting heated over the call I tell he was becoming increasingly concerned with what was happening. The glow of his police car computer was strong so I could see the look on his face during the entire thing.
He looked sad, almost as if he understood what I was going through, like he had been there before. He never attempted to interrupt me, but I felt like he stuck around just to make sure that I was okay. I was an utter mess with tears in my eyes, sloppy hair and a voice that anyone in earshot could tell was breaking down. You’re classic example of a hopeless romantic.
It was one of the hardest phone calls I have ever had to make. It was to my ex-girlfriend who had called me the day before but I never had a chance to respond. Either that or I continually created excuses not to call her back because every time I do it never ends well. I get angry out of nowhere and she will hang up and I’ll never hear from her again. I hung up, got on the wrong bus and walked a mile back to my apartment at 2:30 in the morning in the freezing cold. I felt nothing.
I am impervious to physical pain. I actually quite enjoy the feeling of being hurt and watching myself bleed, but not in a weird way. It makes me feel alive in a way nothing else can. It delivers a temporary high that reminds me that even though I’m stone cold, I still exist. Sometimes it can be easy to forget such a thing when you’re living a life like mine. I’m not one to complain because there are billions who have it worse, but for me I’m just living my own personal hell day after day with no escape in sight.
I wish she knew why I do and say the things that I do. The slightest thought of her is enough to set me off and to actually hold a conversation with her over the phone is something I simply cannot handle anymore. The reason why is because I’m talking to a girl who at one point in my life meant the world to me and now she was nothing more than a stranger.
There is no easy way to explain it. I hate her for all the right reasons but at the same time I love her with everything in me and I just can’t let her go. I’ve never been good at saying goodbye. It doesn’t matter if I’ve known you for a couple minutes or my entire life. It’s always hard and I hate it.
This girl was something different. But now every time I hear the sound of her voice I get so unbelievably livid. She promised me so many things and made me believe in her, and in us. How could she have let this happen? Why did she stop fighting for us? For me? We could have worked out. It was definitely possible. We were so close. If we were still together I would be seeing her again in less than a week for the third time. All she had to do was wait a little longer.
Every heartbreak makes me feel like I’m never good enough for anyone. I keep asking myself what the hell I am doing to wrong to scare away all these wonderful people but I just don’t understand. Dating 2,000 miles apart hurts so fucking bad but love is love and who am I to try and let something like a little distance stop me from pursuing what could end up being the rest of my life?
I hate yelling, I hate fighting, I hate everything about being negative. I got so mad over the phone last night because I’m still so hurt by all this. I love her so much and I would literally do anything for her at any time for any reason. One trip screwed the whole thing up and there were a million reasons why.
First of all, this town sucks. There is nothing I hate like this fucking place I’ve been living in for the past however long I’ve been here. School got in the way, my friends were being dicks, we ran out of things to do (because this place fucking SUCKS) and to top it off we were both sick as dogs. All those components formulated one awful vacation. It started out amazing and everything was so perfect and she was so beautiful and I was so happy and she was so happy and etc etc etc but all this shit finally took its toll.
I saw her today in a store. Or at least I thought I did. I was walking around this place I like to shop and as I look up from a rack of clothes I see her from across the room. I swear if I didn’t know any better I would have actually believed she had come back for me. Without any self control I would have step over every single person in the room just to get a better glimpse at her and wrap her tightly in my arms again and never let her go.
Love is a crazy motherfucking thing for me to comprehend. It makes me do crazy motherfucking things without thinking twice about it. When I love, I love hard. I fall fast and I don’t plan on turning back. I don’t give up easily. I know what it feels like to give your all to someone and have the rug pulled out from under you. I could never do that to somebody else.
They say the saddest souls are the ones that try and make other people the happiest because they don’t want them feeling how they feel all the time. For me, all I want is to find someone to take care of and who will rely on me like I can on them. I’m sorry I can’t be better for everyone or give a girl the world that she deserves no matter how hard I try.
I think about her too much. If I hear one more love song I swear I’m going to lose my fucking mind. It may be selfish of me but I hate thinking about her being happy without me. Her happiness was all I wanted when she was with me but now that she’s gone I just want her to miss me. I want her to wake up one day and realize that she can’t go another day without me.
Rereading that last paragraph, I want to be real about something. I still love her, and whether she is happy with me or not I want her to be nothing but it. If it is with someone else, I never want to know. I’ve blocked her on all social media because every time I see her face I want to scream and god forbid I ever see her with someone else. Sometimes I wonder if she’d feel the same about me.
I honestly don’t remember much of last night. I drink to forget now. She is the only reason I do. I should have known she would be too strong of a thought to ever slip away like that. The effects of alcohol only make me think about her even more so I have completely giving up on the stuff. I never liked it anyways. Besides, nothing will ever give me the high that she did.
This is all just another long ass rant. Sometimes I just need to vent and Instagram is too public of a place for me to do something like this. I turned off comments on my blog posts because I don’t want sympathy or opinions. I can’t keep doing this guys. I’m in love with a girl who wants nothing to do with me and I can’t undo this fucking spell she has cast over my fucking self.
How I am going to fix this I have no fucking idea. I wish she knew. I know she knows I’m heartbroken and mad and lost in every sense of the word, and I hope she knows I only get upset because she means so much to me and I can’t have her, but I’ll never stop loving her.
I wish she would call and tell me everything will be okay like she used to. I wish I could call her and tell her about my day and listen to her vent about god knows what because it was fucking music to my hears. I wish we could dress down in our pajamas again and lie in my bed together watching Friends until we fell asleep. I wish I could see her eyes sparkle and her lips move again and feel her breath on my neck. I wish I could touch her body again. I would do fucking anything for any one of these again. I would do fucking anything for her.
I’d love to marry this girl. And I’ll fight until my dying day to make it so. If it doesn’t happen then it just wasn’t meant to be. I would rather give it all I got and lose the moon instead of wasting time counting stars.