There was this girl who fell in love with her best friend.
When the friend came out to her,
She said absolutely nothing,
The friend never knew how she felt,

Four years down the road,
She finally musters up the courage to ask her out.
And so they’re happily dating.

I fell in love with my best friend
Three years ago,
At fifteen.
The other girl is eighteen now.

I guess that adulthood gives you courage
To do some really daring things.

I wish that I had the guts to do that,
Tell someone how I feel.

But it is so very hard to.
And I know the answer i wish for
And I know the answer
Which I’ll likely receive.
They are not the same thing.

But maybe,
When I’m eighteen,
I’ll get the courage to ask,
And love what happens next.

Once I met this girl who had
Been single for only a few minutes.

To me, one who has never dated,
Never even been kissed,
This was more of a reflection of
How bad the tables turned my way
Rather than humorous,
As she had intended it to be.

How is it that some people manage
To always be so content
While others lounge about,
Waiting for love to come their way,
And they would fight to make it all work out.

But they are the ones who will be
Twenty years old,
Never been kissed.

Searching for love,
And still believing in it all.

Reality
Confused.
Terrified.
Not enough.
Never enough
Never going to be enough.
I’m told that these are lies
That I have been led to believe are the truth.
But they really are the truth.
And that’s really the issue here.
Were the false,
I would not care.
But they are real.

Dreams
Courageous.
Confident.
Exuberant.
Daring and caring.
Strong and brave.
Willing to do whatever it takes.
That’s who I am.
In my dreams, anyway.
Anything I want to be to any extent that I want it to be.
That’s who I am in my dreams
I am fantastic.

Great
When I was four, great was:
Seeing my friend.
Going to the pool.
A lemonade stand.
A Beach Trip.
At sever, it was:
Friends and parties and fun.
At fifteen it was
Seeing the world
For all that it’s worth.

Terrible
At four, terrible was simply:
A scrape or a scratch.
At sever, it was:
A friend moving far, far away.
Breaking a limb.
Having a fight..
At fifteen it was:
Losing a friend.
Realizing the world may not be
Generally good.

All
Once there was a guy who went in search of the fountain of youth.
He wanted it all:
Fame, fortune, and eternal life.
But then he would be there, watching all that he loves die.
We all want something out there that we think will make our lives better, but have not taken the time to consider how it would end up fareing for us.
We’re told that we are entitled to it all.
And we are not given a way to actually obtain any of it.
Oh my, my, my.
How fun it must be to be five years old and think a wish on a shooting star means a lot.
I believed.
Was it a mistake?

Nothing
If every single thing that we thought was stupid disappeared,
I guarantee you that it would all be missed.
Then we’d once again want what we can’t have.
I did not ask to figure out the world’s intricacies.
I have made friends with some writers.
You can always have more
Is a line that I have always adored.
Of course you can!
When there’s none left, you can fill it up.
But, when there’s no room left, you can only take less unless you are willing to hunt down another container.
Oddly enough, it is this nothingness that terrifies us.
But all success stories came from little or none.
Why do we love the tale but not want it, too?

Take It
What you wanted.
What you got.
Have some fun with it all.
When will you realize that you may have taken the one thing that we all desired, too?
What makes you think that you’re entitled to it?
How I feel every time something lovely comes into my sight and I get the thought to want it.
It was easier back when these thoughts did not consume me.
But I took a very foolish chance and now I’m here.
What I needed.
What I received.
Had lots of fun pretending.
Realized too late that I wanted something else.

Leave It*
Run.
Go.
Fly, fly away.
Doesn’t matter how you exit,
Just that you actually do.
Walk
Crawl.
I really couldn’t care less.
How can you care less than nothing?
You can’t.
Said that I deserved it all,
Everything that ended up coming my way.
Thanked you
For telling me the truth.
Thought it was out of a sort of kindness.
Wish I were right.
But then you really didn’t want me.
But still you stayed.
Why’d you mess with me like that?
How rude can you get?
I gave you all the space you needed.
So what gave you the right to leave without a second glance?

Part One: Soulmate

So you go down the street
As you have been doing your entire life
Up to this point, anyway.

And you see a person
And you think it’s your soulmate,
Whatever that is.

But it’s not.
And it never was.

Yes, it exists.
Yes, it’s a real possibility.

But your soulmate changes constantly
Because you change
Each and every day
Of your life.

Part Two: Love

Here’s the odd thing about this funny little thing:
It’s not an emotion.

See, you know if it’s an emotion because you can sense that it’s happening.

But love sneaks up on you.
It comes by surprise.

One day you’re fine.
The next day, you see that person taking history notes.
Nothing productive to society.

And you stupidly
Can’t stop staring.
The Greeks have four words for love because
They knew it wasn’t an emotion.

Emotions have levels.
Love has only descriptions.

Part Three: Insanity*

Back to this history notes thing.

So there I was, just sitting there,
Also doing nothing
Productive to society.
When I glanced around the room.

Red earbuds.
White I-Phone.
Taking notes.

Something I really should be doing regularly,
Taking notes, that is.

That one has it all figured out
And has it all together.
I don’t.
I don’t want to.

I don’t mind falling stupidly in love and not knowing it until I cannot stop staring at one who is taking history notes,

Which are nothing useful in the grand scheme of life.

Just notes.

And, yet, I wouldn’t stop looking.
And I didn’t want to.

When I was five
I dressed up as
sleeping beauty
For Halloween.

My grandma made me a dress that
Perfectly matched the one in the movie.

And I held a bouquet
But was not told that
There were thorns on roses.

I should have known that.
Flowers were around my yard.

But I don't think that
I wanted to believe that
Beautiful things have
Such power
To hurt.

And the thorns pricked me.

It was the first time that
Something I find lovely
Hurt me dearly
In return.

So I was doing very little more than staring at the ceiling when I noticed that there was something really off about how I was. And then I saw her there and I realized that, well, I had fallen for one I cannot have.

And it is not because I am unlovable that I cannot have her. That may be the rationale that I seem to love placing on that, but not this time.

In this one instance, and this is really what makes it slightly amusing, the reason I knew it could not happen because she is a she. Now, I am not the one opposed to being with a girl, but I have a feeling that my very religious mother and father would flip a table at the mention of that.

Not to forget that my beliefs may also agree that it is not the best idea. Trust me, my small group leader is so very opposed to that idea, and so I really don’t have anywhere I can freely express these feelings and talk it out.

Because I believe in love and what it stands for. So I don't see much of an issue with what I feel, but everything I have been taught has led me to believe there is something wrong with me.

And my  may claim that she has no issues with same *** marriage but I know that the view only pertains to those who are not her family. Were I to be that way, she would have one hell of a cow.

And she is still there, that girl that I adore so very very much. Every day, I will look at her with a large smile on my face and pretend to not care that not being able to walk right up to her and ask her out on a lovely date is killing me.

Because it really does hurt me each and every day, to think that I am yet again in love with someone I cannot have. Typically, it is due to not being liked in return, but I won’t have the chance to find that out.

There is the glaring fact that my parents seem to really want to know who this boyfriend of mine is. They really seem to think that I, silly old me, have a boyfriend; they’ve taken to calling him “Tony”.

And I try so hard to keep a smile while hearing this all. But I may have to tell them that I do not have a boyfriend; I’m in love with a girl

She was there, as she always seemed to be,
Reading a textbook and blocking out the world.
And I was there, as I always seemed to be,
Waiting patiently for someone to come and talk to me,
As though someone would choose to talk to me
Willingly, of her own accord, as if there were nothing better.

So this was the way things went between us
For a few weeks and then maybe a month more.

But then Christmas was nearing and
We all knew exactly what that was code for:
Gift-giving. And, that is a code in itself for:
Who really is a friend?, and ,who
Is nothing more than someone who takes up space
That you use only so you don’t have to feel lonely?

See, it determines if that person sees you as someone worth value
Or as someone who is a warm body and a friendly face, if that.

Simply put, and this is not a lie,
From me, she received a hand-painted
Ornament that had her name on it
With block letters that,
Inside, were filled with a pattern that she,
Herself, had specifically chosen.

It is really important to mention right now that I
Didn’t expect something from her. It wasn’t something that was necessary.

But low and behold, she had to go ahead and get me something,
Likely to satisfy her egotistical need.
What did she get me? A tin full of candy.
Now, I realize that doesn’t sound awful.
But the thing is: I put in a lot of time and care into what I gave
While she didn’t have to do much more than go to the store.

Why does this matter? She blatantly gave another gift to another friend
Of hers; it was a customized, lovely, thoughtful gift.

I essentially got a gift card.
Do you know how much thought goes into that?
None. None at all.
Sure, you have to choose the right place.
But you really don’t.
Because it can be easily converted into cash.

Anyhow, this began the slow realization that I didn’t mean anything to her at all,
That I really was that ugly fat friend that no one really wanted.

It confirmed that I was worthless
Last resort at best and then
Maybe in the top thousand
On a decent day when things
Seemed to be going my way.
And she was more to me, I realize.

It was incredibly destructive, I’m  aware
To care so much about someone who doesn’t give a **** about you.

But I thought that maybe it was a fluke
That it was simply because she wasn’t expecting
The very thought out gift that I had given to her.
I believed that it was because I had simply
Caught her off guard, and had she had more time,
I would have gotten something that was comparable.

Now, I know that a gift is a gift and that I have no right to complain about it
But, frankly, no gift at all is so much better to me than some plain old thing.

That was simply the first event in
A long series of events that
Did very little more than
Destroy a friendship that already
Was quite brittle and fragile,
Simply delicate on a good day
And “handle with care” at best.

Yet, I tried to salvage it because I thought that I was making a big deal of nothing.
I don’t want to let something go down without a fight. But how much will it take?