Superjassper

If I trusted as much as I feared then maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult.

I cannot wait to hold your face between my hands once again.

115 Here I am, months later and still I wonder how you’re doing and if sometimes you think of me, too. And it’s at those times that I wish I could still message you and just talk. I’ll never forget you.

I could physically feel you lose interest interest in me. Everything was surface level, and it absolutely broke my heart because I wanted nothing more than to have you in my life. I felt like screaming at you just to Speak to me, but I knew it was futile. Sometimes no matter how much two people want to make it work, it’s not meant to happen.

I wonder what your lips taste like. If I walked up to you, looked you in the eye and said, ‘I want you to be my first kiss,’ I don’t know what would happen. If you leaned in, one day, when we were talking, and just pressed your lips to mine, I don’t know what would happen. I just want to know what your lips taste like.

I seriously wish I could talk to you. I miss you like crazy and I could really use a hug.

You know you really like someone when you spend all night thinking about them, and when you finally see them you struggle to say a single word.

I found the right one at the wrong time.

Mornings would be so much better if I woke up next to you.

I lost myself when you left me.

I feel like you don’t really want to hear it and therefore I won’t burden you.

She’s running, always running. It’s been a long time since she’s stopped to take a breath, because she knows that when she does it will catch up to her. It’s always behind her clawing at her heels but never quite catching them. Soon she’s going to run out of breath and she’s going to fall. And when she does, I’m going to be there, to catch her, to try and fight it away, to carry her limp soul home, to lay her weary mind to rest. But how? How am I going to do it? How does one protect someone from themselves? I don’t know. But I won’t give up. I’m going to be there. I going to be there to save her from herself.

And if you come back to me broken and afraid, let me give you the pieces you lost and maybe we’ll be okay.

We read books and highlight the lines that speak to us, we listen to music and tattoo the lyrics that touch us, we turn to poetry and learn the lines that become us; we’re all hopelessly inept people, struggling in vain to coherently express ourselves. We know what we want to say but we don’t know how.