Tag Archives: dreams

Diary of the Girl Who Everyone Wants

I see a lot of posts about girls and women wanting to be the embodiment of desire:

To be the girl who is guaranteed a second glance, or a few, when they walk past men and women: not realizing that feeling like you’re constantly under a fucking microscope, that having more good days than bad sure as hell makes people think that a rough day for you gives them an open invitation to make commentary about your appearance, that even on your good days, someone is staring at you picking apart every single flaw that you are already fully aware of, yourself.

The girl who sweeps a sad boy off of his feet, after the girl who he thought that he was going to marry shattered his heart, and makes him feel better: not realizing that I don’t go home after “going home” with him and know that I’m the one who his heart longs for. I’m just a body. A good time. A fucking distraction, but not simply human. I’m the one who makes him feel special for a week, until she makes him heartsick again because the way that I delicately exhaled my cigarette reminded him of the way that he first kissed her lips 9 months ago on the same porch swing.

I hear complaints wrapped all in between longing about how these people don’t want to be just another face in the crowd, another wallflower, another body filling up the room: not realizing that I’d kill to blend it, to be looked over, to be lost in the crowd like I’m lost in my own fucking head. Overlook me, merely just as a passerby and not like you overlooked my budding feelings for him and him and the boy before that.

How they want to be the ultimate objects of lust: not realizing that I’m so sick and disgusted with being solely an object. I’m a huge step up from their hand, but I might as well be because he’s even less emotionally connected to me than he is to himself. I don’t want lust, oh my god, I want to scream, is what I want. Lust has no mercy and in turn, neither do I. But I want to love, maybe, and to be loved. To feel special for longer than a goddamn week only to be dropped faster than a dried out pen when he’s in a hurry to write down his feelings for her.

How they want to be the one who people have jealous conversations about as they walk away from flashing a smile and looking whomever is undressing them with their eyes up and down: not realizing that I want to wear anything, everything, without being looked at like an expensive suit that he’s looking to buy on his first date with the girl that’ll make his heart skip a beat when she’ll first call him “baby.” Or like the porn star who he fantasizes about when they get into a fight and he’s sleeping alone for a while. I’m looking them up and down to read their body language, hoping that, maybe this time, it won’t be so confident and obvious of their one sided intentions.

The one who seduces with a effortless smirk and makes breaking hearts look as mechanical as breathing: not knowing that I smirk because I don’t know how to smile and holy hell what I’d give to genuinely be able to, once. I’d love to even remember the last time that I did and didn’t feel guilty for it. And I wish that I didn’t break a single heart in my lifetime but it seems like the only thing that I’m ever able to reciprocate with my completely septic heart and rotten intentions and terrifying mind.

Babe, do you even realize just what in the hell that you’re asking for? What the fuck that you’re wasting your hours day dreaming about?

I can imagine that when it hits you that this is coming from the girl who “everyone wants,” that I won’t get much sympathy; but baby, I’m not asking for that nor do I need it.

I just want you to be careful what you wish for.

If someone would’ve told me that wishes do come true, I would’ve ran like hell away from all of those 11:11’s and shooting stars and pathetic prayers. 

Love, the girl who everyone wants but the girl who nobody loves



“You Can’t Tell Me You Didn’t Feel Anything There…”

I’ve questioned what being in love is

And I’ve pointed out the differences between simply loving someone and being in love

And I know what it’s like to love and be loved

And I thought I knew what it was like to be in love, but I realized a little while ago that I was just in love with the idea of a person and only in lust with them

But ideas could not have prepared me for what was to come with actually falling in love

I knew that I was capable of loving someone the way that I love you, but I just didn’t think that it would happen so soon in my life

And I must say…it is by far one of my favorite surprises

I find myself not being able to fall asleep without being next to you and hearing you breathe

Your arrhythmic heart is quite possible my favorite beat

I find myself not afraid of the future and somewhat excited for it

And I usually unintentionally try impress people with my words but I find myself being at a loss for them sometimes, other than the well known three

When I’m drunk, I either go on about you to others or go on to you about the things that you do that make it impossible for me not to love you

You make me feel like a thirteen year old with my first “real” crush

And if we’re giggling at our own stupidities or poking fun at our insecurities or lying in bed at 3a.m. talking about or hopes and dreams and childhoods or having a serious discussion that comes after fighting, I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else

When I look at the full moon right in front of me, I think of the night that you set your phone beside me and played “Hey Pretty Girl” by Kip Moore and told me that every word reminds you of me

I never admitted it, but a few tears streamed down my face

For one of the first times, I couldn’t think of even the wrong words to say, so I immediately took your face in my shaky hands and kissed you

It was the first time that I told you that I loved you without the hurt in my voice

And you won’t admit it, but I saw the tears of relief surfacing in your eyes

I don’t think I’ve witnessed anything more beautiful from you

I’ve always said that I don’t see the point in posting about your relationship all over social media

I’ve always been under the impression that it caused more harm than good

But goddamn, sometimes you just want to tell anyone and everyone that you are happy and it is because of that person

You told me that, “when I fell for you, I questioned if I ever actually loved anyone before”

And when I tell you that I love you, “I feel warm inside. And that concept of butterflies is bullshit, it’s a whole damn zoo”

I find my self nuzzling my face in closer to your neck every couple of minutes while I’m falling asleep because I just want to be even closer

Even with legs intertwined and hearts parallel and fingers interlocked

When you wrap your arms around me at night, you always keep one hand over my heart to feel it beat and say that it just feels sweeter every time

Love seems obsessive, but I don’t think that you could ever feel too much

Or tell that person enough times

There may be no “tomorrow” for one of you, so just go on and say it

Better yet, go on and show it

Go on and feel it

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything there”



And it doesn’t help that my body’s cold and my bones ache, the tears are burning hot as they rapidly glide down my face
And the world is empty, just like my heart and my stomach
But my mind is full of the terrors and “dreams”…(if I believed in nightmares, that would be the more appropriate term)
Dreams that hold the key to the closed doors that the largest secrets reside behind
And I can’t tell whose skeletons in the closet terrify and hurt me more
You can’t just let them go when their bony fingers clutch your wrists and hold your throat as soon as you wake
So you’re petrified in your sleep, where you should keep your escape, and you’re suffocating in reality
All you want is someone to hold you and say, “I’m here for you,” which is something you have never experienced without the unignorable hint of coldness and tainted sympathy
But all you get is, “fight the fear but embrace the pain,” which is probably what you need
But you can’t ignore the gaping whole in your heart and the deep pit in your stomach

And that loneliness is just as much of a fear as reliving my past.