Dec 2014
I was never anyone's first choice,
Or second. Or third.
But eventually down the line I was a choice. Whether it be for a few weeks or just a night, sometimes I was relevant.
I was relevant to different guys. Different times. Different nights.
I was never as relevant to them as they were to me.
He was older, approximately 4 years. I was a freshman in high school, no one trusted my decisions and everyone doubted my mindset. I knew what was going on. I fell in love. He is the most mysterious human I've ever had the privilege of spending my summer with. He sets the bar high and no one has reached it. He forever has his own place in my heart. Oddly enough, two years later he's still the one.
He was self destructive. I liked him a lot because he was happy but also screaming for help. He was lost and love was his map. He used others as medicine and when he didn't have that medicine he would panic, I would be his off switch. He kissed me for the first time at a rock concert. I stood in his flannel crying and the bittersweet taste of his breathe took mine away. He got admitted into the hospital for a suicide attempt. I waited for 2 months and 3 days for him to come back, he returned with a girlfriend.
He was a drug fiend and I just wanted attention. That line of blow or the next deal always came before me. Eventually I wanted to be apart of his world.
Pills and pills and pills
that was my summer rhythm. Day in day out, blow and lies. I dealt with it at first for the love, and then exchanged it for a line.
He was by far the hardest person to love, and I enjoyed it. Drugs and liquor and blurred out nights. Cigarette smoke infused in his clothes and ***** in his words. We both ended up in the hospital together and he got admitted into rehab. It was 5 months until I saw him again after that night. 5 months of putting my life on hold, and then he left me. I let him use me for 6 months after that. Always on call whenever, because I truly loved him. I would settle for temporary love that I thought I deserved.
The last thing he said to me was
"We should wait until you're older. I love you." "Don't **** yourself." "You've hurt me for the last time." "I don't ******* know anymore."
Out of all of these experiences and downfalls lessons, there's still one person I can't forget. I wouldn't want to if I could.
Or second. Or third.
But eventually down the line I was a choice. Whether it be for a few weeks or just a night, sometimes I was relevant.
I was relevant to different guys. Different times. Different nights.
I was never as relevant to them as they were to me.
He was older, approximately 4 years. I was a freshman in high school, no one trusted my decisions and everyone doubted my mindset. I knew what was going on. I fell in love. He is the most mysterious human I've ever had the privilege of spending my summer with. He sets the bar high and no one has reached it. He forever has his own place in my heart. Oddly enough, two years later he's still the one.
He was self destructive. I liked him a lot because he was happy but also screaming for help. He was lost and love was his map. He used others as medicine and when he didn't have that medicine he would panic, I would be his off switch. He kissed me for the first time at a rock concert. I stood in his flannel crying and the bittersweet taste of his breathe took mine away. He got admitted into the hospital for a suicide attempt. I waited for 2 months and 3 days for him to come back, he returned with a girlfriend.
He was a drug fiend and I just wanted attention. That line of blow or the next deal always came before me. Eventually I wanted to be apart of his world.
Pills and pills and pills
that was my summer rhythm. Day in day out, blow and lies. I dealt with it at first for the love, and then exchanged it for a line.
He was by far the hardest person to love, and I enjoyed it. Drugs and liquor and blurred out nights. Cigarette smoke infused in his clothes and ***** in his words. We both ended up in the hospital together and he got admitted into rehab. It was 5 months until I saw him again after that night. 5 months of putting my life on hold, and then he left me. I let him use me for 6 months after that. Always on call whenever, because I truly loved him. I would settle for temporary love that I thought I deserved.
The last thing he said to me was
"We should wait until you're older. I love you." "Don't **** yourself." "You've hurt me for the last time." "I don't ******* know anymore."
Out of all of these experiences and downfalls lessons, there's still one person I can't forget. I wouldn't want to if I could.
