Writing and pouring out my soul to you on this damn computer, its light shining bright. Too bright. My soul is flowing in these keys with every word that is formed. I know this is the right thing to do. The only way to tell you how I feel. Loving you has never been enough but always been too much. You know that though, or at least I hope you do. All things written should not be new to you but a revelation deep down that you already knew. Finding the right words have never been easy; it isn’t still. However, this can’t go on forever. Love has never been as forthcoming but words to paper flow effortlessly as though I have been destined to do this. Sadly, I know no matter what I say, it is all lost, out of context. Text can never replace the truth flowing from my succulent lips that you long to kiss. But. I’ll do it anyway because the typing of these keys are like music to my fingers, tingling and coursing through every part of me to make it just right no matter how one may interpret, even the one it is intended for. Let me begin.
I hate everything about you for reasons I’m not even sure I can explain. This isn’t that, “Oh I hate you because I love you so much” hate. No, I truly hate you. Bringing to me a world of pain and love that I have never longed for, that I crave to be rid of. A monster was created because of the love that you gave me. I understand, you only gave how you knew but you’re giving was too much and never enough. A hopeless dichotomy. I don’t just blame you, I blame me too. Hating you is so much easier than loving you ever could be. I created a path of destruction running from the truth. Hurting you so that you would finally be man enough to let me go. Though, you never did or never could. You loved me too much but still your love was never enough. But you already knew that, most of this you already do. Let me tell you something new.
Before we ever became an us, I hated you for not being able to tell me the truth. I knew from the first moment we were together you liked me but, you made it more difficult than it ever had to be. I was used over and over again but really I wasn’t. I felt that way because you couldn’t express yourself when it was so easy for me to. Not just with you but with everyone. I’m forward, I know. I will tell anyone how I feel without a care simply because I don’t give a fuck.
I’ve gotten off track. Let me regain my flow.
I told you things I never meant when they first left my lips because simply I did not know how to handle it. I love you. Three little words that save life’s yet destroys egos and homes but comes when people mean them the least. Yes, the least. Never the most. Can you still follow my text or is it to the point of not making sense? Textulating is what I’m doing but I know that is lost on you. You never could follow my train of thought. Maybe that’s why we never worked or maybe because when I wanted to take you home, you never wanted to already be there waiting for me. When you finally realized it was me that you wanted to take home, I was already gone. As the saying goes, the ones who love us the least are the ones we would die for. You were that for me and I was that for you. We both died when we told ourselves the truth. Always lost in textlation, meaning never truly coming through.