I am a walking irony. I want to talk to you every day and can’t survive without knowing how you are, but I also want you out of my life. Last night, I cried over you again. How many times will I be crying over you? I want it over with, but at the same time, I can promise you that I will bear every tear and every crack in my soul for you. I’ve been battling my mind between leaving you and keeping up with you because I can’t stand you. In my last rant post, I told myself that I would never come back to you, but just after a few days, there I was again holding your hand as if nothing happened. Is love really like this? Is love all about forgiving? Yes. But is it also about letting yourself get wrecked inside just for the one you love? Maybe that’s a yes too. Maybe I just really love you that much. I don’t even know how you bring happiness to my life; I just know you do.
My problem is that I don’t know how much I’m worth to you. To me, you are the watch. The watch I can’t leave home without. The watch that I keep looking back to, not because I want to know the time (that would be absurd; I look at my watch every minute) but because I want to admire your beauty; because when I’m bored and not occupied with anything, you’re there. You’ve been the first guy I’ve cried to and the first guy I wrote cheesy blog posts about. I don’t want to show it because I don’t want to look like I’m the one running after you and looking like a complete idiot because you never reciprocated what I really felt. I actually look like an idiot now writing about my love for the man who has left me confused all the time, who has given me feelings of betrayal, who has made me a walking irony, and who made me doubt my choices, but at the same time still have some faith. I want you to tell me how I mean to you and who I am to you. I want to know how much I’m worth to you and how much you truthfully love me, because sometimes I don’t feel it. Sometimes your mixed signals are just so hard to decipher that my mind goes to overdrive and can’t even work out what you’re trying to say. You have that effect on me. You make me – the number one in class, the logical thinker, the girl with the steel feelings – a walking wreck, a walking irony, a completely different mixed up individual, but you also make me the happiest girl alive.
One thing I know for sure is that I probably would never get tired of crying over you, be it good or bad, if it is for you, I probably wouldn’t give up. Now I’m scared that maybe it’s you who will first give up on us. But then again, that’s life. i just have to accept, I guess. And then again, maybe I’m not even writing over a dilemma with a strong foundation. Maybe this is just another burst of emotion, and maybe there is really no real drama here. Am I just over thinking again? Give me a fucking sign. Tell me what I’m worth to you, so I would know if what I’m giving you is still what you need and deserve. There are still a lot of nagging thoughts in my head, but they are so blurred. All mixed up like a soup – I still cannot put them into words, but maybe someday they’ll make perfect sense. Let’s just wait and see.
But for now, I am certain of three things: that I will never get tired of you despite the tears and pain you’ll give me, that I might hide you from every one else because I’m scared, but despite those two, I love you.
“Is it still love if you cry more than you smile?”