wherewastesaredisposed-blog - Tumblr blog

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

I want to cry, cry until my voice is hoarse. Cry until I can't cry anymore. Cry until I find the beauty in my puffy eyes, runny nose, and hard to breathe self. 

Because every emotional and nerve wrecking pain is beautiful. I want to find the beauty in my own pain.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

I am letting you get to me, letting you break down my wall, and letting you destroy my heart. Why? I don't know, but it's gotta stop.

And soon.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

You are still horrible as ever. It does not hurt to fucking say and notify me that you can't come, or can't make it. You never answer the question directly, you always come up with some bullshit response: "Fuccccckkk ______." Shut the hell up. You are helping me become as blunt as I am today. Because of your shitty friendship, I endure as much as I do and stand where I am now. 

You know what pisses me off the most about you? You can't fucking text me back but you can like shit on facebook and comment on them. That is a damn win, man. For you of course. Always have me sitting and waiting, wondering where you are. I hate waiting. I hate wondering. I hate asking if you will come. I hope you don't find the balls to tell me to buy you anything anymore. You don't even pick it up. You were in the neighborhood, fuck, down the street, a couple houses down, yet you can't call and say: "Hey, bring me my shit." Or something? 

Keep up with this though, I will change who I am completely with you. You don't deserve my friendship at all, but it's always there for you. I cherish you too damn much.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

I hate that I constantly think about you. I hate that you're in my mind 24/7. I hate that you don't treat me like a friend. I hate that you're trying but you're not succeeding. I hate that you're one of those type of people, they will start doing whatever it takes to get someone back, but when they have them, they no longer try--that's not how it works. I hate that you can take out all of your other friends that are girls, but with me it's only to one place--your bedroom. I hate that I let myself get attached. I hate that I can't let you go. I hate hate hate, that I am writing this down just so I could stop crying. 

You are hurting me more than he did, causing me pain more than any of my exes, giving me heartaches twice as much as you should from a starting point of zero, and you have no fucking idea how much I care.

Why can't you care about me the way I care for you? Why is it that I always have to keep this to myself and cry?

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

...

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

"You know I missed you?"

I don't know why those words from you to me, have been ringing in my head for the past couple of days. You took me by surprise when you said it. I didn't expect you to miss me, at all. I remember when I used to tell you I miss you, and it was frequently too--after I would see you, it was just hours later that I would miss you. And I would text you to tell you, you would tell me something like: "I'm here though. You're texting me." And then I just stopped saying it because I felt I was being too attached to you. Now you tell me you missed me. I don't know why it made my heart ache when I heard you. I don't even know why my heart tried to dig its way into hiding either. You missed me...why? You said it was something you felt. That's weird though, you know. My heart is still aching, and cringing as I'm typing this. I can't even stop thinking about you. You're in my mind 24/7. I wake up and I think of you. In my dreams, I see you. Before I sleep, I think of you. This isn't even normal anymore.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

For you, because of you, and with you, I feel as if I am hopeless. I am hopelessly falling for you. I'm trying to run from it, and I see that it's working, but it seems to come back to haunt me.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

There wasn't much said, nor much words exchanged, but the time spent together, I know it was cherished. Thank you for being with me on Christmas day.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

Being with you makes me forget about all of my problems. Neither of us is ready for a relationship, nor are we ready to commit to one, but your company keeps me smiling. We will never be one, due to some stuff in the past, but for what it's worth, I enjoy every bit of my moments with you. I'm slowly falling for you, which sucks and I really shouldn't, but as these past 9 months has flown by, our time together causes my brain to become dysfunctional and my heart fluttering in butterflies.  I am not sure what to do. What we have is simple, yet technically, it's very complicated. I need to cut these strings that I've let become attached to you. 

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

Though my voice isn't as mighty as a bullhorn, nor does it compare to the bellows of those on a mic, but I sure as hell know I said it loud enough for it to be caught by your ears. For you to totally act like you had on headphones and couldn't hear anything, causes me to sink back into those days where I'd just walk away from you. The type of person you are, the personality that you've grown stem by stem, it has caused me to look at you in a new light and wonder, "What did I even fucking see?"

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

Frustrations

My body is craving the attention of a man. I wish to have my skin against his, whoever he may be. I desire the time that could be spent in his arms to just be "romantic." I'd love to have his hands all over me, stroking my skin as if he's the brush and I'm the canvas. I'd love for my fingers to trace the contours of his face while we lay right next to each other. I'd love to lay naked and sacred with him and forget that the rest of the world exists. I'd love to feel the need of wanting him, wanting me. Bluntly, I'm craving sex. All the sweat, the moans, the groans; I want it all. #fml

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

I sit in front of a bitch whom I hate and loathe for her unjust actions. She didn't wish to be humane and help out her kind. She wanted to be called a creature and a monster, just like he, whom I also despise and loathe with the utmost disgust and hatred. I'm not one to have such feelings imprinted in me,but when harm is done to those dearest in my heart, even a small fragile girl like me, can hold grudges as huge as the vast oceans of this Earth. I stay forever quiet towards this being because I, have no power to kick her ass and not get attacked by her crowd of ignoramuses. But in my heart, a lit flame of disdain will always ignite in sight of her and her presence.

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

Today I ended all those ties with you, because I shouldn't even have any feelings towards you. And I'm glad you don't want to lose me, because I really don't want to be out of your life, or you out of mine. 

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

Sometimes, I wish I would wake up from my dreams. Those dreams I think and fantasize about that will never come true. I don't know why I do it, but I do it. It sucks a lot that I do, but I have to put up with it and live on happily. Or whatever the hell that is. 

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

I lay and wait for your text, but it seems I've waited a century. It's getting late but there's no sign of you. You came to me today, troubled, but you never exposed the reason as to why you were troubled. Me being me, I was left with a million questions; not asked nor answered. I wish it's not part of who I am to be the one who waits, the one to always want to lend a helping hand to someone even if they wouldn't return the favor, the one to be stupid like this.  Damn...

What happened, exactly? Why are you so troubled? Why did you text me out of nowhere asking for a hug? ... I'm troubled, when you are. 

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

I'm struggling to find happiness, even though I always smile at the best of my heart's content. I'm struggling because my heart is aching every time I smile. I'm holding in too many stories that I don't tell the faces that walk among this earth. Stories that might make skin crawl, eyes tear, heart feel the need to skip a beat, and basically just see my point of view in everything. 

I'm trying to be happy, but my heart aches knowing the reality of my life. Playing a charade is becoming challenging. Throwing this life into a facade doesn't seem to work anymore.

What am I to do?

[wherewastesaredisposed-blog]

Maybe it's paranoia, maybe it's me seeing through you, maybe it's nothing at all, but for now, it is something. I have a problem with you. I have one with you because you have one with me. As if you're holding onto some unknown vivid grudge, you treat me like air. You give me daggers of words synonymous to dislike and you walk with every step protruding your discomfort around my presence. With a former title as my best friend, I thought you would be used to who I am and what I am capable of. But for almost a year now, you’ve taken a weird habit and notice me for what I’m not. It’s become a sudden yet habitual thing for you to judge me and feel disgust towards me. I know before, that it was my ‘kindness’ towards others that bothered the living shit out of you. Because I was so nice, you thought of me as an ass kisser. Why? I have no clue. Frankly and honestly, I’ve made a choice to not try to be your friend anymore. It’s a waste of time, a waste of efforts, waste of space in my body that could have been used for more important other than to stress about you, it’s a waste of a lot of things.

And it only hurts me so much because our bond lasted for 10 years. And just last year, around November, we both started to drift apart. I cared about our friendship; I still do though, kind of. But I will not try anymore. There’s no point in trying when you’re not. This bond or what used to be of it, consisted of us. Without us, there’s not fixing it. Since we’re both off on our way, we’ll head out and let one another be. I just hope you’d stop talking shit about me behind my back. If it ain’t facebook, it’s blogging, if it’s not blogging, it’s freaking twitter. It’s just funny how I can tell you’re attacking me.