Loves me Not (otherwise known as the writing exercise that went too far)

Watch me run, even though I suck at it, as fast as I can force my legs to go and know that the second I stop I’d drop unconscious.

Or dead.

Because I know the second that I stop, the second I become too weak to take another step, that’s when the thought of you will stab me again and again in the chest.

You’re not here and you’re not stabbing a knife into my heart, but every single time that your words cross my mind, that’s exactly what happens.

As soon as I stop, you flood my every sense, and my usually shitty memory remembers every little insignificant detail about you. Your smile, your laugh, your gorgeous clear blue eyes, the way your hands felt on my waist, and every little conversation, every stupid joke, every comment that we exchanged.

As strong as I thought I was, as reliant on my cynical outlook on the world as I’ve always been, I realized that when you weave your way that far into my affections, my heart is no more resilient than any other teenage girl’s.

I know that it’s stupid, and I know that we’ll never be what secretly I’ve always wished we could be, and I know that I’m better than this.

I really wish that you had the decency to at least give me some notice that you were planning on showing up in my life and changing it forever, for better or for worse. And what hurts the most is that you have no idea.

You have no idea how perfect you are, you have no idea how irrationally infatuated I am with you, and how I fall apart without my daily dose of you.

I never thought I’d meet you, and a part of me is glad that I did.

I give my every apology to the me I used to be, and I know that I can never look her in the face again.