Dear Jon

I'm listening to Let The Flames Begin, and maybe thats my catalyst for writing you this letter. I'm not sure. I love listening to music when I write, sometimes because the lyrics inspire me, sometimes because the story their singing is worth putting down in complete sentences, to show those little moments of love shared, secret kisses stolen under stars and soul-mates. Am I making sense? I don't think I am. When you read this, and I hope you do, I would like for you to listen to the song. Close your eyes, feel the words, and then maybe you'll understand why I'm doing this. Maybe you'll finally know. Or perhaps you've always known, but didn't say anything about it. Either way, now, you'll know everything.

You know how much I love words right? Want to know why? Well you can't really say no, so if you're really not interested, you can skip this part. I was never good at maths, logic wasn't my strong suit, and I hate doing things inside the box. I loved words simply because they were unique. Nothing else can confuse, or hurt, or make people feel like flying in the clouds like words can. Word can make you feel like you're dancing in the rain, without a care in the world, or it can drag you down, strangle you with the heaviness of its meaning. Thats why I love words. I love the way that if you write words well, it can be much like a beautiful composition of music.

Listen to Paramore, My Number One for this next part.

So I bet you're thinking why I wrote you this letter, maybe you didn't bother reading it. You never really did love words. Jon, I have something to tell you. And I have no idea how telling you is going to affect you. But you know what? I'm not going to think of you, or your feelings. Not this one time. All those other times, where I strangled those words down my throat, and I could feel my heart wanting to explode, but I was too scared to take the risk.

Risk.

I'll paint the colours and show you the words. The brightest of reds, the passion and anger, with a streak of the softest, most calming blues, and the energy of orange, tinged with the jittery, nervous nature of purple. I'm so scared Jon. I'm so scared to tell you everything. But I will. Because, I'm tired of swimming in silence. I'm sinking,and I'm watching you walk away. And I can't do it anymore, I can't hold in all the words anymore, I cant pretend, I cant be your friend anymore Jon.

I've always loved you. Always. And I'm tired of it. I hate being in love with you, because it hurts me. It was fine when we were friends, but now I can't do this with you anymore. I have nothing to lose Jon, except our friendship. But honestly, its not worth it anymore. I lost a boy, a sweet boy who listened to my crazy words, loved my stories and looked at me like I meant the world to him. I lost him, I let him slip away, because I couldn't be with him, when a part of me was miserably in love with the boy who broke my heart without even knowing. You. I have nothing at all to lose anymore, because you were never really there. You never really cared, so it doesn't matter anymore. What you think, or how you feel doesn't matter anymore. I've thought about telling you a thousands times, I could feel the words on my lips, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Know why? I was too busy thinking of how things would change for you, to even consider my own feelings. Even though you repeatedly, and often unknowingly hurt me. I'm tired of caring about you Jon, so I thought fuck it. I'm not going to consider your feelings anymore. If I keep doing this, I will NEVER be able to move on, and I'll slowly lose my mind.

I don't expect this letter to change how you feel, because I know you love your girlfriend. I don't want anything to happen. You have to understand that I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me, because I cant be around you anymore. I can literally feel myself losing it Jon. I can't pretend anymore. I really can't. It wasn't much of a friendship anyway. You always that the upper hand, whether you wanted it or not. I'm tired Jon. I'm so sorry it had to happen, and I;m sorry I met you. Jon, sometimes I really think I deserve a better friend than you. Sometimes, I feel like punching myself for expecting more from you. You're not my boyfriend, and I think in my fucked up head, I forget where to draw the line sometimes. I can't do this with you anymore Jonathon. I really really can't. I wish I could just fall out of love with you, so I can be happy, but truth is, I can't. So I;m not giving myself a choice. Please, understand.

I can't be friends with you.

Grenade, by Bruno Mars fits this part perfectly, so listen to it.

I knew you didn't really give two shits about me. I think thats what hurt me the most, the fact that your rp friends couldn't mean anything to you. I don't want to be stupid or selfish or anything, but I can't help it. I really cannot help the way I feel about you. You make me feel crazy irrational things, and i hate not being able to control my emotions. Around you, I become this whole other person, I'm not so sure its good for me. You confuse the hell out of me Jon, because sometimes you act like you do care, then the very next thing that comes out of your mouth is, “I don't give a shit.”

I always wondered if I ever meant anything to you, but honestly, I don't think I do. Do you keep the letter I wrote you when the semester ended? Did you try to say anything? Anything at all to at least make me feel like I was worth some small little part? Like I wasn't wasting my time being your friend. Thats one thing I don't like about you. You never talk about how you feel, ever, and maybe I don't have that right, because you're not my boyfriend. But I do deserve more than this. I sure as hell don't deserve friends who treat me like this. And its not fair to me Jon, because, I know, even though you didn't ask me, or wanted me to, I cared about you. Like a friend. I trusted you Jon, more than anyone else. Even as I'm typing this, I wish there was an easier way for me to do this, so it wouldn't have to be me putting my heart on the line, so it wouldn't have to be me who had to get hurt. Truth is, I don't know if you care. It hurts like fuck to think that you don't care. And you don't. So I don't know why I keep calling you my friend. That day, when Sabrina left me alone at parkway parade, I sat down at Macs, and cried for 3 hours straight.

I texted you, hoping that you would bother to reply, but you didn't. My heart broke Jon. Because you were the only other person I could think of who would care. But I should have realized. I called Jerri, everyone I knew, and still no one answered. That was the day I felt like the biggest fool. I do so much for people, and when I need help, they can't be bothered. That hurt. That hurt a lot. That was the day I promised I wouldn't let myself care.

Sometimes I think you really don't know why you're friends with me. We're so different. You're easy, what you see is what you get. I complicate things, I fall in love to easily and hard. I get my heart broken, I cry, I don't hide what I feel. You're quiet in that way. You don't talk about your feelings, and that drives me insane. See, I don't have the right to ask you to talk about your feelings, because I'm not your girlfriend, but if you were a girl, and you were my friend, I would have asked you to talk about your feelings, and it would have been fine. I can't do the same, because you're a guy, and I guess that makes the friendship different. It makes things a heck load more shitty for me.

I need time away from you. I need to be able to not want to fucking cry every time you do something stupid and insensitive. I need to be able to control my emotions better, to learn not to be sensitive anymore. You know, I fault Sabrina for being petty when I forget to call her when I go down, but truth is, I get just as pissed off when you do it to me. Because its not being petty. Its what friends do. We call each other down, we look out, we care. And fuck if you don't do that. I don't remember once when you called me to go to school, or when you called me to go down, or when you called me to go home. Its always been me, and its not fair for you to take me for granted like that. I can't even get angry at you, because you simply DON'T CARE. The reason I didn't say anything to you till now, is because I know, that if I didn't do things first, they'd never get done. Its so easy for you to forget me Jon, and I hate that, so I try harder, I care more, and then I get hurt more. I should be like you, if I want this friendship to work. I need to not care as much as you don't. I need to be able to be as indifferent as you are. You hurt me a lot Jon. Its just taken me this long, to realize that no matter how much I love you, or care about you, you're not worth it. Its not worth my time to love someone who will never love me back. Its not worth my time to be a friend to someone who doesn't know how to be one to me.

Even as I;m writing this, and I know that I should walk away, there is a huge part of me screaming not to. I can't let you go. For some fucked up reason, I really can't let go so easily. Its going to take time, and I need for you to understand that I can't be around you anymore. Not like it'll make much of a difference, because you don't care. So you won't feel a thing. You won't miss me, you won't feel regret, guilt, nothing. Because I was never worth anything to you.

Its not your fault you know, its mine. For caring too much. Its always my fault. Its what I do best. I do things for others, start to depend on them, then I start to expect more then it all goes to hell. I guess what frustrates me, is that I care more. I want it to be equal, or at least for you to care a little bit. I'm more trouble than I'm worth, and I'm sure you don't want to deal with me anymore.

All the best for everything.

Love always,
Me

A Little Piece of My Heart

Dear Boy(whom I love),

When school re-opens, I'm going to tell you excatly how I feel. And not to make you change your mind, or blindly hope that you'll have one of those all important ephiphanies and say that you feel the same way too. Because, its not fair of me to expect that if you, and honestly, the whole ephihany at the last moment, where the guy realises he loves his best friend, is ridiculous everywhere else excpet in books with no morals and a whole of pretty people and in hollywood, where they tell you a bunch of stuff about how sad life is, but love always triumphs. Its so stupid to think that just because you feel a certain way, letting it out will make you feel better. Maybe it will, but it sure as hell is a selfish descion. Does that make you a bad person? Hell no. It just makes you human.

Be prepared.

Love always,

Me.

Walking Travesty

Dear Person.

I deleted this post about a million times, and even then I wasn't too sure about anything. I can't write anymore. I don't have the words. Nothing. i feel like just watching tv. I dont know what to do. i cant write. I cant write. I cant write anymore. And this is not one of those short phases where I say i cant write, then come up with a post about a week later. I really cant write anymore. I dont know why. I feel like one pf those people who get so absorbed by their own words in thier heads that they can't vocalise it anymore. Those people who have seemed to completely given up on trying to use words, so they just stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

I cant di this. I cant not write.

I need to write.

Need to.

Fireworks At Dawn

Sigh.

I know, I know, my first post in two(?)months(I know right, cue the exaggerated surprised looks), and I chose to begin it with a sigh. But I think that sighs are overused and unappreciated. People do not truly understand what it is exactly, that a sigh does. When you hear a sigh, the first thing that people assume is that you're depressed. Or you're filled with angst, or something along the lines of wanting to end your life. But people often overlook the happy sighs, or angry sighs, or exasperated sighs, or, well you get my point. Sighs are not just subjected to use for one emotion, they're not just one sided.

I believe that it is at this point where you're thinking to yourself, "Boy has she gone off the deep end. Blabbering about sighs." Well, while my sanity may be questionable, sighs are a very very very integral of everyone's lives. I am merely bringing to light the plight that they suffer. Haha, light, plight. They rhyme. I'm not a fan of rhymes, but I do praise the literary genius who penned Peter Rabbit, and other such fascinating rhyming stories.

While on the subject of rhymes, let me just say that reading fairy tales when you're younger and again when you're older is waaaay different. For example, while reading Cinderella, I swear everything dear Cindy said to the Prince and vice versa, had some sexual insinuation to it. Also, reading such stories made me miss being a kid. Not that I've made such an effort of trying to be an adult. I never really thought about how though written for kids, these stories carry with them the wisdom that only age can give you.

Like Peter Pan.


I love the 2003 version of this movie too. Jeremy Sumpter is amazing as the boy who never grows up.


Anyway, the point I'm trying to bring home is the fact that though made for kids, J.M Barrie wrote this for himself, to find a way to immortalize being young. As an adult, you look at this, and you think, "to be young forever, but at what cost?" To never grow up, never have a family, to stay frozen, stuck. While everyone around you continues on with their lives? Would you really give everything up? For a long while, I really thought I would. But I'm not so sure anymore.

There's a term for this, Peter Pan Syndrome. There's so much I want to say, but I can't.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In other news, there has been much talk going on, and several people have tried to coerce me into joining what I have come to know as being people's answer to getting away with half ass writing, Tumblr. I myself have on more than one occasion thought of jumping ship, but there is something holding me back. Besides the fact that I write freaking novels, and won't be able to condense everything into a short paragraph with an accompanying picture, or pictures but no text, its just not my style. But i'll admit, it is an intriguing idea to let a picture do all the explaining for you. I shall consult my sister, because despite our fights, she's truly the only person who knows me.