This is someone I've loved
I've loved her for years.
She's hated the world for longer
How much each day did she think she'd die? Never make it to 18.
Suicide was easier, she couldn't tell her family who or what she was
I was terrified, and I didn't even know.
Tell me, please, why are creatures that are so beautiful allowed to die? or why are they taken away, not only from us, the people around them, but from themselves, why can you see the potential in other people more often than yourself? Why do so many people have depression, why do all of my friends "joke" about dying but cry alone at night about how much they hate themselves? What an absolute pandemic. The nights and days and life is for lovers, the fresh smell of flowers on your nightstand on a high school saturday from your beautiful lover, who wanted to **** herself yesterday morning? But instead of hitting a cement wall in her car, speeding down the street, or slicing at her wrists, no instead, she tells you that you're what kept her on the road, you are who she called right after being in a car accident two years ago on a snowy night, you're who she wants to spend her free time with, actually no, you're not, I am. That girl ******* loves me, and I ******* love her and though the idea of actually marrying her seems naive, and childish, knowing that adults must scoff and roll their eyes at an idea of perfect 17 year old love, but I've lived figurative decades with her. SO MUCH PAIN AND LOVE, ENOUGH FOR 30 LIVES. I've known her for 15 years now, she lives 5 houses down the street, an upsetting family home, with problems of their own, (but who doesn't have issues?) I know what she deserves she deserves love, and so so so much comfort and kindness. I swear if you saw her like I do, I think you'd be surprised. Have you seen her? God. That long brown hair, that's curly without her even trying, in messy beach waves, or her with a beanie on? Or a snapback? Her black torn jeans, her vans shoes, her ridiculous socks I pretend to refuse to kiss her in, her huge blue, yellow, and green eyes. With those long, pretty, eyelashes, and her soft, small, kissable lips, they pout and smile and every movement her mouth makes, I want to see. She's walking art, she's hard, she's a badass, she is everything you'd want in an angsty, temperamental, crabby, high school girlfriend, you might not like the drugs, the Xanax, the Adderall, the excess of ****, nicotine. She stays away from alcohol, her parents and she knows why. You've never seen her hands, felt her warm, small frame, and her precious arms. I could stay in them as long as the sun burns. She kills me, she kills me all the time. When she's sad, I want to fix it, when she's happy I want to join that, when she's hyper and annoying I still love her everything, when she's depressed, the only thing on my mind is her getting better. My therapist said we are co-dependent, but that lately I'm moving more away from that, realizing boundaries, and property lines. I might sound crazy, believe me, I know I likely do, but what if you knew that she loved me as much right back? I am tall, about 7 inches taller than her, 5'9 . I have light blonde hair I'm growing out of a short bob haircut. I am limber, but with curves, I have a thin but hourglass shape, I have anorexia nerviosa, I have anxiety, like her, depression like her, she has bipolar tendencies, I am dissociative, we both have body dysmorphia, so honestly, at this point, who the **** knows what I look like? No one is honest about how **** I am, not a fun thought, sorry, moving on. I love her, I do, I will, I have, I don't know where I'd find anyone more fit for me in the entire world, and that's why I need her, and that's why she needs me, and that's why both of us are alive. We are both alive because the other is alive, I think back about the pills she took 2 years ago. The cry for help, rehab, the hospital, her body, I can't imagine my angel going through that, and me not being there for her, again. She's everything to me. I want to be there, I will be there, she is absolutely beautiful and I will never, ever, ever be the one to let her down. Anytime she calls me out of school and into the parking lot, and I run around campus trying to find her and get help, and each time I go to her house at 3am with my mom because she cut her wrists again, my pain worsens with hers. She doesn't deserve this *******!!!! SHE DOESN'T WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD? I DON'T DESERVE THIS EITHER. WE ARE GOOD PEOPLE. WE ARE LESBIANS, WHAT THE **** JUST LET US LIVE, WE WANT TO **** OURSELVES ENOUGH EVERYDAY. I DON'T EAT, SHE DOESN'T TAKE CARE OF HERSELF. WE USE DRUGS TO HELP, BECAUSE NOTHING ELSE WORKS ENOUGH TO NUMB ANY OF THIS PAIN, EXCEPT LOVE. THAT'S WHAT WE HAVE. WELCOME AMERICA. DRUGS, ***, LOVE AND GIRLS. That's what we are alive for, and never for a second will you catch me alive while she's dead, and vise versa. I'm out when she is. I'm in love with her, and this world will mean nothing if she goes. Her dad yelling her name and running up the stairs to see the ****** wrists of his daughter, me crying on my kitchen floor, over food, over my body, over my girlfriend and best friend wanting to be dead. I've cried in my room, I've cried in the music room, the bathroom, my closet, I've cried for her. Any pain I've ever felt, I never want her to ******* face, and slays me, absolutely destroys me to know she feels the same pain. Someone get her some help, some love, something more, her friends say that she's so so lucky to have me, and I guess that makes me feel so good to hear. I am equally so so lucky to have her. I love that she loves me, I love the ring she gave me, that was the ring she'd wear every day she didn't self harm. I think she got it from an old crush, but I don't mind, it's all part of the story. She got me a diamond ring, and I made her a diamond ring. I also gave her a ring in a little Patina box that has a heart on the front and an engraved saying, "forever and always" on the inside. She said she CRASHED into love with me when I gave her that in my 94' Beretta. Oct. 25, 2018. We made it official. Can't wait for the day I get to call her mine forever. The day we have our first child, looking at her and thinking of how far we've come, how much love we've created in this world, and how much joy and comfort we've added, how much peace we've found, and what future we've made. I can't say enough about her, no one could. No one can explain her, or anyone, the intricacies of people are sometimes unimaginable when one is not in love with someone, but I love her teeth, her thighs, her hands and arms and stomach and chest. I love her heartbeat and her voice. I love when she's even a little annoyed with me, and I kiss her, and we instantly forget about whatever it was we were fighting about. She's my dream, and my future, and my life's greatest love.
I love her, I love buying groceries with her, I love her intelligence and humor, and entire body, and laugh and, god, everything about this girl.