As I grew fond of her it felt like I met love all over again, I used expressions like she was my drug stronger than ******, my addiction they had no rehab for and I trusted it wasn't lust because I knew the difference. She was my substitute for the weekly damaged parts of me that needed to be tended to. She was my love fantasy that even God couldn't persuade me otherwise. Love shouldn't be a word simply because that infinite amount a power is the most dangerous thing I've ever experienced in my two decades of walking this earth.
Sure I have been hurt before once or twice too much, not saying I was perfect but each time I payed the price for fighting for someone who meant more to me then a bunch of words could ever embellish. Drake was right it's not the end of the world its just the end of a world with that one girl. Before I met her I never had a fairy-ideal of what real love was but drama love would be the last thought that would come into my mind if that time presented itself. No matter where I'd go or how much ****** I seek shelter in those open wounds found a way to keep me up at night. Awaken my inner demons like I deserve no sleep as if I deserve to be haunted by my darkest thoughts. I've experience happiness for short periods of time but it still feels like a crazy metaphor that needs to be dropped from my goals like happiness is a rim I can't touch. She was wonderful with issues and faults, she was human but happily ever after is something she didn't believe in and I couldn't blame her. Fairy tales aren't healthy and the idea of including it into reality was no ones fault by my own. All i really wanted from her was to be open with me and not with her honesty but with her heart. She told me not to get to close but just like any other ******* I walked into the fire anyway just to see myself suffer in flames with the expectation that if I kept screaming her name she would turn back around and save me.
Every time I found myself fighting with her I was really fighting for her but somehow every word fell short and every mental break down took its toll to the point I had to shut down or I'd just end up spiraling out of control. It felt like she wasn't listening anymore at least when I was speaking she wasn't, She changed without me noticing a thing. This wasn't the girl who would spend hours in the mirror applying make up to her face then another hour looking for an exceptional outfit to meet her daily standard appearance. My heart was very patient, when I first involved myself with her and she opened up to me I knew she wasn't just the ordinary girl to me because I treated every word coming from her heart with gentle hands. I don't know maybe most of it was just my character but as far as the self control and making decisions when emotions were clearly invested there was no point of me making promises that I couldn't keep the short version of what I am trying to say is my self control can get the best of me when there's real love there. I just don't understand how the same ear that listened to her every word, sentence incomplete or not was the same ear that after a while didn't know who it was listening to anymore.