every so often
Countless times have I wrote here about the countless times you made me realize that I'm stuck on a cicle that goes round and round and drives me right back at you, countless times. Still, I am here today to talk about it.
Life usually goes on, that's how it starts. Everything changes to the point that I can't even see you anymore. Other boys come around, boys that I can see myself with, spending the weekend on the beach, just us. That kind of thought that made me realise I was in love with you in the first place. So that's good, I think. That's all I need.
Nonetheless, they're nothing but you. Bits and pieces of you, containing you, reminding me of you. Which is fine, probably. Knowing that I'm never gonna stop loving you may be the reason why I need to see you in them, why I look for you in them. How can this be healthy is beyond me. But it is what it is.
Well then, I'm over you. Or so it seems. And then this small thing happens, this word that somebody used in a certain tone, or a song that plays on the radio when it shouldn't, or things that I learn in school that makes me feel so fucking stupid - that's all my mind needs. Not to kindly remind me of you right on the spot. God forbid. No, my mind is tricky. I don't even know about that until I fall asleep. And the dreams comes into place.
"A dream is a wish your heart makeswhen you're fast asleep"
Fuck. That.
Like, for reals, fuck that!
What good could come out of this? Why would something come up from my own brain to FUCK my own brain? Why can't I just GET. THE. FUCK. OVER. YOU? How long will this last? When will I stop having mini heart-attacks when somebody walks past me wearing your perfume?
Oh yeah! Did you know about this one? I was suddenly IN LOVE with this asshole, who's not even cute or anything, that everyone hates. My friends would be like "what the actual fuck?" and I would agree with them because I had no idea what was going on. The guy was not attractive AT ALL. Then why was I having wet dreams about him? Why did I want to get into his pants 3 times a day?
I'LL TELL YOU WHY. Two months after the first dream about him, he sits right next to me in class and guess who he smells like? Guess who was giving a conditioned response to your fucking paired stimulus?
At this point, I'm just waiting. Waiting for this to be over, and it will be. I'm waiting for the day I'm gonna write about this broken cicle that used to haunt me. And that will be my last post to you.
Right?