I'll be the first to say
That i hate it.
It's so pointless to fight this.
Our defenses are on such a high intensity that we are stiff.
Nothing is comfortable anymore.
Even laying next to you is foreign
I feel as if something is pulling you away from within
We both say that we want to be together and don't want to lose each other,
But when we look back,
We see that we already resent the place we are in.
Always sneaking around
Meeting at parking garages just to get a kiss.
But it isn't just a quick one
We could kiss for hours if we had the time.
And we did one day
When we were together for ten hours.
But now we don't even have the time.
Different lives,
Different friends,
Different obligations.
We drink different coffee in the morning
And complain about how I can't just lay in your arms all day
Because we are running and
Hiding, lying,
Trying just to get a few moments alone with each other
But it is so hard
Because I am stuck in my superficial tower without a door
And no matter how many times you beg me to let down my hair
I can't.
They donated it to someone who actually deserved it.
I ask why you don't just go and find someone who deserves your love,
But you say, 
'Where's the fun in that, my dear?" 
You said,
"Love isn't supposed to be easy.
The harder you work for it, the more meaningful it is."
I just sit there and wonder how hard i have to work
Because I feel everything is starting to callus
Including my heart.
It's slowly turning into rock
And I don't mean for it to,
It's just every time I try I just can't be with you. 
You ask for all the reasons why and for your sake I make a list
But for my sake I take it and tear it apart so you don't worry
I don't want anything else affecting your life.
Especially me.
I'm just a girl that you'll think about in a couple of years and say,
"Oh her? I just knew her in high school.. I guess she was kinda cool."
But you
When I describe you, I'll be fighting back emotions
I'll say something along the lines of a boy who made a dent in my life
But in reality it wasn't a dent,
You took a lot from me, but in return you put stuff back. 
The void that was left empty before you
Was finally filled again with your kindness
But slowly it started to drain again
And when you tried to cover the holes it just made it worse.
You tried to be my nurse, but in reality you were my curse.
That savory poison that flows slowly through my veins
Sugar coating all the pain just to gain some recognition.
You just wanted me to need you.
And believe me.. oh I do

You don't walk in straight lines.
You curve and weave and go right through where you want.
It reminds me of the time you decided to write on your arm.
You didn't need any ink,
"That's what the blood is for," you said.
"Have you ever done this before?"
No I hadn't,
But you convince me I've been through enough to want to.
You had me under the influence,
But the "influence" is much bigger than drugs.

"I was walking and then I fell into a prickly bush."
Darling, I know what you have been up to.
You don't walk near prickly bushes,
You don't even like walking at all.
"No I promise. The leaves scratched me, look."
Then please tell me, my love, why they are all straight lines?
Why are the marks in evenly straight intervals?
And why can I see the beginning of a word under your sleeve?
"IT WAS A BUSH!! YOU NEVER BELIEVE ME!"
Oh, yes.
It was a bush alright.
It was a bush made out of flesh and bone.
With muscles and tendons and ligaments making everything work.
But the leaves, the prickly leaves.
The leaves were made of metal.
This I know as a fact.
A random blade you pulled out of a razor that you broke.
And I know exactly where you "fell" into this "bush".
It is in your bathroom with the shower running to wash the blood right down the drain.
Your parents would never suspect because "Oh, he's far too happy to even think of doing that."
The bush is you, sweetheart.
And you are destroying your beautiful branches.

Any moment I had with you is priceless
Many people don't know what it is like to get chills when someone says their name
Perhaps they haven't found their reason of existence yet.
How could you make me feel so good and say it is wrong?
Every time you held me, I knew that was where I was meant to be.
Tragic. It is tragic that you didn't feel the same way.
All alone, I sat there because you didn't feel the things I felt.
Maybe you just needed to get away for a while.
I know you needed a break, I just didn't want you to go.
Now I am alone and I am waiting for you,
Even though I know you won't come back.

"As a core, idealistic truth, love is all that matters. In practice, especially between fundamentally flawed and unfinished beings, it’s not. Sometimes our love isn’t greater than whatever is doled out beside it. It doesn’t always win out. Sometimes it shouldn’t.

When you first realize someone could be something to you, the days become hazy and fluid and the last thing on your mind is logistics. It seems cold to be calculating at the beginning, to compartmentalize a person and see if those parts match up to the whole you envisioned.

We’re so quick to glide over whatever instinctive inkling resonates every time we realize there’s a void greater than our love for someone can fill. We press on, seldom realizing that every relationship culminates in deciding whether or not those instincts are the ones to follow.

Love exists in multitudes. In shades and elements and dynamics. In pieces and in learning, in growth and in change. In strangers and in soul mates. It does not exist as a single, expendable truth or experience. We’re so quick to attach that idea to one person or one relationship. We don’t want to go through the motions of experiencing those levels of commitment, attraction, interrelation with anybody else. The risk of losing is too great, but withholding waives the possibility of ever finding it in the first place.

Some relationships are long, steady, and easy; some are quick and enlightening and challenging. Some brush along our surface and others dive beneath and uproot us. Some might be temporary, one might last “forever.” That doesn’t mean it has to be the only one there is. That doesn’t mean there’s not something to be experienced, to be taken, to be learned, from whatever came before.

You can’t make a relationship something more than what it inherently is. You can’t make yourself fit into something you inherently won’t.

The whole of human love is what’s enough, the parts are just precursors.

We are unfinished, every last one of us. We have to let go of wishing each chapter was the last one because we’re afraid of how it could end otherwise. We have to stop forcing people into being the end-all-be-all for the same reason. We have to paint in contrasts, in love and from loss, and we have to find eventually that the whole picture is filled, and we are filled, from what we take, find, lose, gain, learn, give and create with the multitudes of people who loved us, in the multitude of ways that happens.

You’ll realize you knew the answers to your questions all along, it was only a matter of having the courage to act on them. You’ll let go when you don’t realize you’re doing it. You will have to learn that loving someone doesn’t always mean that being with them is the answer. You’ll realize that love is enough, but the kind of love that makes you stay only partly comes from the person you stay with. The other part comes from you.

You’ll realize you don’t have to be out of love to say goodbye. You’ll learn to separate the two: the loving part of you and the logical part of you. You’ll learn to use them in tandem. You’ll learn that two such things can be used in tandem, though you were taught otherwise and it seems impossible. What you’ll find eventually is the only love worth having is the kind that’s there even when the rest is gone."
-Brianna Wiest