Jesus Christ.
I blame it on my personality
ENTP
funny, but romantically inept in using it
Smart, but overbearing
Curious, but boundless in exploration
All of these are virtues I have but cannot manipulate.
It haunts me. I hate myself.

Reality
Hurts
Introspection invites pain
Introspection invites healing

I am a gutless fool.
I wallow in excuses.
“I never have the opportunity to talk to her”
Make them.
“I’m not good enough for her”
She stares at you in class.

I love that feeling.
Whenever our eyes meet.
My heart drops. And so does my stomach.
It feels like the floor beneath me.
For that split second. Falls away. It scares me.
Inviting us both into our own world of benevolence.
A flash I wish could be eternity.
Then our gazes dash away just as quickly as they collided.
“Did she notice?”
“Did he notice?”

We “flirted” a lot in 7th grade.
Then we’re separated by schedule.

Didn’t matter.
My pea sized mind...
It couldn’t fathom or even comprehend love.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
I hope you still might want me.

English assignment: write a soliloquy about a personal decision.
I write one about my in complacence and unsureness of sharing my opinion.
You write one about dying your hair blue.
Through your short work you’re funny and shy.

Oh my ******* god. I adore you to death.

At the end you show a stick figure drawing of you next to a college with blue hair.
Labeled: me in college with blue hair.
******* goofy.
I absolutely love it.

If you had blue hair I wouldn’t care.
You’d still be jaw dropping.
Though it would match your eyes.
You have the most gorgeous blue eyes in the entire world.
I literally could get lost in them forever.
They’re so...
Deep.
Deep like I try to make my poems.
cough
cough

Anyway.

Anything I create though could not be as exquisite.
An ecstasy one could die from.

I feel so creepy reflecting on your looks without you knowing. Like I’m stalking you in my mind?

I haven’t flirted since that math class we shared.
I’m afraid I’m rusty. Dilapidated.
I would say something that would push you away.

Or.

I tap your shoulder.
Be hypnotized by your eyes and stand there.
Mute.

Oh...

And the sweat.
My palms would be moister than an oyster.
I’d be beet red.
My voice would quiver.
And boom. It’s awkward for both of us.

Awkward can be nice. Just.
At appropriate times.

I’m so weak.
I have no map to a reservoir of strength.
I have no courage to confront you.
I desperately want it.
I need assistance in acquiring it.

Funny.
I’m a curious guy.
Always looking for adventure in books etc.
But I’m haunted by adventuring toward you.
I see a treacherous path that with one mistake.
I die.

If I make no mistakes.
I win a prize I see myself as undeserving of.

So excuses I make.
And withering inside I drool over you.

We both never talk to the other ***.
I want to talk to you.
And I think you might want to talk to me.
But I block our mingling through fear I cannot control even if it might benefit us both.

I need help.
I’m afraid of getting help.
Then I’d try something and mess up.

Oh my god. Help me.

Love *****
I mean I don't even know if this is love
This my problem
I've never been in love
Maybe I have
I don't know
People describe it to me
They say 'trust me you'll know'
But I don't think I will or can ever know
I don't think I'm built to differentiate between real feelings and fake feelings
I don't know what I'm feeling towards you
But I get this sad feeling when we aren't talking
When we aren't with eachother
I guess that's love
Or some twisted version of it
I guess I'll just have to settle for it
And I wish
I just wish
That I could say all of this to you
And more
And I know that life's too short to hold back
But some part of me
The cautious part of me
Tells me to think twice about what I'm doing
If I open up to you, what's the worst that could happen?
But I can never read you
I never know WHAT to think
I never know what you think
I don't want to feel like this
Weak, vulnerable and needy
I don't want to feel like control is not within my reach
Be mine
Forever
But *******
******* for making me feel like this
For hating every moment since you've been in my life
******* for making me feel this way
I'm weak
Pathetic
I thought I was stronger
UGH
I've never been the girl that sat around missing a mans presence
But I guess fate has its own way of getting revenge
Maybe I just feel too much
Or just feel too deep
Or think too much
But I'm so detached at the same time
So distant
So complacent
Maybe that's why I'm so confused
Maybe that's why I'm just not so sure anymore
About anything
About me
About you
And about us
If that even exists

I want to see inside of you
Every last detail
I see something in you
Funny
Because at first I didn't expect it
I thought you were pretty average
It turns out
You're pretty cool
And the best part is
I don't even think you know it
I don't think you can see what I see
But what if it's just me
What if it's my warped vision
Trying to convince us both of a lie
And hating you for telling the truth

First time I saw you
I just knew
I just knew...

I needed you to love me

Through my own tyrannical enforcement
I spew insipid scripted statements
I do not support nor enjoy.
Afraid to be aberrant
Oppressed I am pushed to lecture repugnant contradictions against my own disposition.
Turgid loathing of the fear of dropping the expected facade
Supported by ego and enforced by group-think to mold a homogenous majority.
I hate self pity.
Here marinating in my own self indulgent sorrow.
I am a hypocrite.
Another one of my enemies.
But weakened by forcing myself to state the opposite of what I value,
I open myself to further self destruction.
Through this introspection I might be able to reclaim my social autonomy.
Possibly at the cost of diminution of social impression.
That is held at such divine standards today.
I might become a social martyr.
But at least I’d die complete and confident in my own voice.
It would open me to ridicule.
But I’d rather understand myself and be subjected to hate than to live objectively in a self confined contrived reality.