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Feb 2015 · 1.5k
You / Her
emily Feb 2015
today it is sunday, and i want to be waking up with you.
look - this isn't going to be a cheesy poem about love, or maybe it is.
the summer of 2013.
i was only 15, i had no idea what love was.
you said it was never unrequited love, but what i perceived was just as bad. you loved the idea of a deadbeat me who would care only when you cared, and who wouldn’t mind being put on the bench when her team was losing. instead, i just scratched out my eyes and went to the mound anyways. somehow i never struck out.
some days i am an overly caffeinated and hyperventilated excuse for post traumatic stress induced dramatizations.
i wrote a trip report on you. the come up is foggy after repeated use. the peak is incredible as always. i am so ******* addicted that sometimes i forget everyone can see the track marks on my forearms.
if i were to speak for myself, i'd tell you that the universe is twice as big as we think it is and you're the only one who made that idea less devastating.
all the boys that had "loved me" before then, loved me with sweaty palms and left me with sad bruises. all the girls that "loved me" before then, loved me with busy mouths and shallow "i love you's". all the boys and girls i thought i might have "loved" were all just something leading me to you, and i think me still falling in love with you two years after we broke up really proves my point. loving you was different. it was hard. it was tiring. it happened fast. it happened so nicely. *it was. so. *******. worth. it. you're so worth it.
you have not been treated the way you should be treated, and i promise to make up for every time you were left upset all night crying because of the ****** person who made you feel that way.
this is so scattered.
it's like i wrote you into ******* existence. i never thought i would get the girl i've been dreaming up. you're everything i've ever written about all bundle up into one perfectly imperfect (beautifully) flawed person. and you're all mine.
look - i used to write you into a sad poem at two in the morning, and my bones trembled like your upper lip as you cried in your bathroom that night two summers ago. i think i’m still shaken because my skin is fitting a little strangely
i feel gravity in my kneecaps
i feel ice rubbing down my spine
i feel false hope and real hope,
and i feel the ten milligrams of relaxation that i took to forget what i could. the mass in my lungs is shrinking, the fear in my empty stomach is being replaced with love and it's all for you you you you y o u.
there was something in my bones that told me to love you. i remember promising to like you even after i knew everything about you, and it turns out i loved you instead.
i'll cut my soul into a million pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home.
i'll write love poems to the parts of yourself you can't stand.
i'll stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you i'm not afraid of your dark. you're so beautiful because you let yourself feel so many things, and that's pretty **** brave.
i am in love with you simply and as difficult as it is to remember all 10 trillion digits in pi. i want all of you, i am in love with all of you. i want you forever, i want to be in love with you forever.
i love you.
this is scattered and **** but my god do i love you

— The End —