iLoveYouWithaKnife
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2002
- Messages
- 8,351
I spent many, many nights drinking myself into oblivion, along with getting my head so fucked on any given drug at any given hour of the day. Most of my nights were either spent alone wondering the bigger meaning of all of this, or with someone's name I had long forgotten by now. Either way I was just wasting my fucking time.
A few people have burned their place in my memory, and right at that exact break-up point, the one where you don't know if you are making the right decision by saying 'get fucked' or if you should prolong the agony of being alone and suck it up and take the miserable heartache and tretch through another day, you always think in your head 'i'll never forget you.'
Alot of the time those words that make that phrase seem to sound so nice, are really misconstrude in the wrong interpretation. But either way, those few chosen ones got their place.
It almost seems ridiculous now, to me, that I go from one extreme to the other.
The stupid one. He though he could change the fucking world, and change me. He thought he could save me from a tortured life but ended up being the most torturesome of them all. He thought he was always right, but always sounded like a fucking idiot. He had to be the life of the party. the catch of the day. The pretty boy, who just looked stupid. He was the hypocryte, and I'm sure he still is. He was the one I thought, "how do i get on without him... how how how?" And now I just think I'm glad I came to my senses.
The abusive one. He brought out the worst in me. I thought he was the one I could save. I thought he'd love me if I'd do everything right, if I bought him things, if I prepared dinner correctly and wash his clothes, clean up after him, care for him and nurture him. I thought he'd love me if I showed him just how much I fucking loved him. But he showed me nothing. He made me beg and plead, get on my fucking knees, and cry oceans of tears. There was no helping him, just hurting myself. I hate him. I truly, truly hate him.
The addicted one. I lowered my self respect. I convinced myself it was all okay, even though it wasn't. I used to love the way he'd tell me I drank to much. I drank too much, while he was shoving spikes into his arms. He was daring and mysterous, and because of that I was intrigued. I fell for him and his junk addiction. And he fell out of my life. Like that, he was gone.
Those last three and the tangled ones in between that filled up my nonsobriety, left me more than feeling empty. They left me with nothing to hold up my tired head. I had given up, lost interest in the fact that I sometimes enjoyed the company of others. I always found myself alone no matter what. No matter who stole the blankets at night, or who didn't come home to tuck me in, I was by myself.
But even through all the heartaches and headaches, and the far and few between happy times I was just wasting my time until I found myself with you. And it took a while but it's finally right. I found myself and my life with yours. And the balance we bring to one another is far too spectacular and devine that any word in the dictionary would not do it justice. You bring out the best in me, you make me feel so good about myself. I value time and life, and you. I'd go through all those shit relations if you were guareented at the end again. Nothing can stand up to the overall joy you bring and nothing will ever take it away. Nothing that anyone could do or say could take you away.
And if by chance this world would be cruel to me again and you would be parted from my sight you would be: The one I loved for life.
You are strong and courageous. Open-minded and far from selffish. You know the meaning of beauty and living, loving and friendship. You are the meaning of a wonderful being. You are so beautiful and passionate and creative. You are filled with such good intentions and great ideas. I am so fucking lucky. I am so, so fucking lucky.
A few people have burned their place in my memory, and right at that exact break-up point, the one where you don't know if you are making the right decision by saying 'get fucked' or if you should prolong the agony of being alone and suck it up and take the miserable heartache and tretch through another day, you always think in your head 'i'll never forget you.'
Alot of the time those words that make that phrase seem to sound so nice, are really misconstrude in the wrong interpretation. But either way, those few chosen ones got their place.
It almost seems ridiculous now, to me, that I go from one extreme to the other.
The stupid one. He though he could change the fucking world, and change me. He thought he could save me from a tortured life but ended up being the most torturesome of them all. He thought he was always right, but always sounded like a fucking idiot. He had to be the life of the party. the catch of the day. The pretty boy, who just looked stupid. He was the hypocryte, and I'm sure he still is. He was the one I thought, "how do i get on without him... how how how?" And now I just think I'm glad I came to my senses.
The abusive one. He brought out the worst in me. I thought he was the one I could save. I thought he'd love me if I'd do everything right, if I bought him things, if I prepared dinner correctly and wash his clothes, clean up after him, care for him and nurture him. I thought he'd love me if I showed him just how much I fucking loved him. But he showed me nothing. He made me beg and plead, get on my fucking knees, and cry oceans of tears. There was no helping him, just hurting myself. I hate him. I truly, truly hate him.
The addicted one. I lowered my self respect. I convinced myself it was all okay, even though it wasn't. I used to love the way he'd tell me I drank to much. I drank too much, while he was shoving spikes into his arms. He was daring and mysterous, and because of that I was intrigued. I fell for him and his junk addiction. And he fell out of my life. Like that, he was gone.
Those last three and the tangled ones in between that filled up my nonsobriety, left me more than feeling empty. They left me with nothing to hold up my tired head. I had given up, lost interest in the fact that I sometimes enjoyed the company of others. I always found myself alone no matter what. No matter who stole the blankets at night, or who didn't come home to tuck me in, I was by myself.
But even through all the heartaches and headaches, and the far and few between happy times I was just wasting my time until I found myself with you. And it took a while but it's finally right. I found myself and my life with yours. And the balance we bring to one another is far too spectacular and devine that any word in the dictionary would not do it justice. You bring out the best in me, you make me feel so good about myself. I value time and life, and you. I'd go through all those shit relations if you were guareented at the end again. Nothing can stand up to the overall joy you bring and nothing will ever take it away. Nothing that anyone could do or say could take you away.
And if by chance this world would be cruel to me again and you would be parted from my sight you would be: The one I loved for life.
You are strong and courageous. Open-minded and far from selffish. You know the meaning of beauty and living, loving and friendship. You are the meaning of a wonderful being. You are so beautiful and passionate and creative. You are filled with such good intentions and great ideas. I am so fucking lucky. I am so, so fucking lucky.
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