pain and poetry

i was stuck to the question if love did exist
where i saw my friends fall, love, and cry out their hearts
and through those years i asked if it was me that was wrong
as to why i wasnt falling for anyone
friends,
flirts,
MU’s,
and none of them even near to what the books tell me.
none of them until i met you.
and no its not just because you were pretty,
or that you wore a pink polo,
or that your hair stood out.
i felt the universe agree with me for once,
that you are special.
that you are what stars give birth to.
you are what songs and poetry live for.
you are coffee shops, and tragedy in a bestselling novel.
you are what i felt missing in my life.
you are love.
in its most curious form.
in its most explosive form.
in its most corrupt and nurturing form.
in its most purest form.
you are the most beautiful thing i have ever laid eyes on.
you are the most beautiful thing i will ever lay eyes on.

I wrote this to the first girl who shook my world. Cheesy, whatever. But yes, it took me 17 years to look for a girl I actually fell for, maybe its not that long, but my group of friends always had their girlfriends when we were at high school which led me to question wether id really find someone or maybe something’s wrong with me. Either way, they still tried their best to hook me up with someone, which most of the time failed. You see I didn’t really think of love before, I was genuinely happy with acads and my videogames and didn’t really have the mind to rationalize how a girl would fit in my life or how she’d make it better. The concept of having a girlfriend to me before was having cash and time for. I was an HS student and I had no cash, which was spent mostly on my games. And I had no time either, which was spent mostly, yes you’re right, my games.

                Im not blaming my friends to being bad matchmakers, they introduced me to beautiful smart women. But most of the time, I only thought as to how hard it would be to keep going out, making letters, and spending time with them. Plus I had this thought in my head that they would steal my time and eventually pull me away from my games. Anyway, I didn’t fall. Not like how the movies or the countless books I’ve read. In every girl they’ve given me, I was only disappointed to see that love or a spark wasn’t there. This was the time that I started to not mind love at all, wether it existed or not. And to me before, if ever it did exist, it was only to learn to love someone and be satisfied or happy with them.

                But then again that all changed until I met her, it was bullshit in a sense because if you never expect to fall for someone, you never know what to do if you do. And I didn’t, and honestly I panicked, I was always shaking and in a way I felt so alive. i felt so euphoric. I felt like a little boy having his pick of from the ice cream box.

                But of course I’m not a little boy and unfortunately I don’t get what I want from the ice cream box. I started to drift off from her and what’s sad is that I still didn’t know what to do. I was in so much pain. And in this pain, I found inspiration. And I noticed that I wrote painfully yet beautifully on the days that went by.

                Tate (or not)

//

i imagine her hair

and how its cut short

its color a shade of brown

framing her pretty face

//

i imagine her eyes

deep, light, open

brown twin pools

that i’d be glad to take a dip in

//

i imagine her heart

and how it seems to attract mine

does she know mine’s her’s to own?

prepped up in wrappings and lace

//

i imagine her hands

long, slender, pale

sharp colorful fingernails

that scratch her name on my skin

//

i imagine her neck

and how her veins show

through porcelain skin

that seem to crack on each pulse

//

i imagine her legs

long and lean

that carry her everywhere

her eyes and heart agree on

//

then i imagine her lips

wise, dear, sweet

that speak of how romance and tragedy meet

//

then i smile

and fall

then she calls

and i begin to step closer

but i doubt and stall

static, should i move faster?

i reach you

and kiss

but where are you?

then i start to miss

her?

and idea of her

and i’m left with nothing but myself

because there was no real her to start with

                and it went on and on and on for months and I just wrote and wrote and wrote and it was a way for me to bring it out and get over her.

                But I never did.

                We eventually got together around 4 months and it turned out so welll, so it’s a happy ending but I ended my article with a sad one because people like tragedy.