Another rant...

It’s curios how a great day can be ruined by one simple text. It wasn’t even what was said. It was what wasn’t. All the times I wish we could be together, I still burn for you. I can’t keep from thinking about what your lips taste like. But I know you don’t think of me that way. I’m so sick of this one-sided romance. I want to be loved. I’m just not sure if anyone who would love me would spark my interest. I’m afraid that all the people who spark mine just don’t care about me. I want to hold you in my arms, to whisper stupid jokes to you and make you snort with laughter. All of this, and the best reply I can get is “yeah it was pretty good”. Don’t you know what I’ve gone through? The depths of madness and depression I’ve endured to try and get over you (to no avail)? Just one night, would you humor my love and let me hold you like we’ve been together for years? Let my lips touch yours,  that I can finally know what they taste like. Have your kiss linger on my lips as your cool breath blows across them. Just for one night, make the pain in my chest go away. Fill the empty feeling in my stomach and replace the stench in my nostrils with sweet perfume. I want to feel your skin against mine, the warmth of my body keeping you from the cold you so dread. I want to give you everything you want. I want to give you the world.

 

But you could care less.

 

I’m just that stupid guy who likes you, the one you think is sweet, but isn’t boyfriend material… The one thing I’ve consistently prayed for and worked towards taunts me like a carrot dangling in front of an a*s. All of my senses focused on that wet, crunchy bite just a foot in front of me, but every clumsy clop of my hooves pushes it a clop further away from my tongue. I don’t know how long I can take this emptiness. I’ve lived with it for years, but I’m afraid that the more adult my habits become, the closer I get to destroying myself. Alcohol today, maybe marijuana tomorrow. 10 years down the road, am I a rotten-toothed meth head begging for another hit?

 

What is stopping this from happening? Would the universe collapse if I knew what it felt like to be loved? Does my misery give someone else purpose? Does my pain free up resources for someone else to be happy? Any consolation would suffice. What’s almost as bad as not being loved by the one person you really care about is not having any reason why.