"It’ll make sense. Soon enough, it’ll all make sense. When the time comes, you’ll understand," he assured me.
What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.
I have been thinking of how I want to be touched by you, with hands that will play me like piano keys, with fingers that will make a symphony out of me.
You wanted smooth sailing and I’ve always been a tsunami.
I want to skip class and drive somewhere far. I want to peel unwanted thoughts off my skin and paint good memories on it instead. I want to gather thousands of songs and play them on repeat until my brain has memorized each word and my heart has fallen in sync to each beat. I want to fall asleep on a rooftop with the moon bathing me in tranquil light and to wake up to the rosy-kissed sky with gold tendrils from the rising sun. I want to cover every section of my bedroom with posters because I’m tired of waking up feeling empty. I want to dial a random number and strike up a conversation with that person. I want to dance in the rain and feel like I’m eight years old again. I want to do something for myself for once. I want to camp out on a beach and alienate myself when the demands and expectations of the world become too much for me to bear. I want to wear something outrageously different because I need to realize that being comfortable with myself starts with taking risks and not caring about what others think.
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