I’m an 18 year old man with a fat 14 year old girls problems.
Distance.
A great distance.
I pull myself away from you. It’s been weeks since we’ve last seen each other. I don’t want to see you, again. I don’t want to know you. Just seeing your face; it kills me.
You have a whole new life without me, just like everybody else. I’m content with loneliness. I know I am. I don’t want you. I DON’T WANT YOU.
I NEED YOU.
fucl. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I wish I didn’t have to feel like I need to love somebody. I wish I didn’t have to feel like I need to be loved. By you. I wish I could just be content with loneliness. I wish I could just be alright without you. I wish I didn’t have to need someone.n
This is getting stupid.
So. fucking. stupid.
I hastily pulled out my phone and searched on Google for the lyrics.
“Just keep playing the same chords over and over again”, I told him. Busby Marou - Biding My Time. He looked at me and smiled when he started strumming the chorus. He wouldn’t wait for me, but then again, I’m the one singing.
I misinterpreted the song. After reading all of the lyrics, I’ve probably misinterpreted them even more.
I’ll be waiting for you here
When you come calling
I’ll be waiting
Biding my time, biding my time
Waiting for you here
Biding my time here
___________________________________________________________
“Do you know the song by Death Cab?”, He asked.
“Which one?”
“This one”. He moved the capo to a different fret and played the song that made my heart ache for him even more. He has a habit of aimlessly trying to kill me. It’s a skill of his since, to him, all he’s doing is strumming a guitar.
“Of course I know this song”. I found myself mimicking the chords with the ukulele I was playing. When I sang, I sang it without meaning.
When heaven and hell decide
that they both are satisfied
illuminate the “no’s” on their vacancy signs.
If there’s no one beside you
when your soul embarks,
I will follow you into the dark.
He doesn’t know I listened to this song religiously. In that moment, I sang as best I could without what I felt towards him being noticed. After all, it was just two muso’s liking two very good songs. And that’s how I wanted to keep it.
- You know how to use a fucking phone, so stop asking me.
- You know how to write, so write your own fucking Christmas cards that you want addressed to your fucking friends.
- You know I’m in a bad mood, so stop the bullshit from coming out of your mouth.
I love you, I do, but I need to get the fuck out of this house.
Sometimes, I really hate everyone. I hate how everyone else has the influential power to change someone’s decision in doing things. It’s really stupid.
But wait, there’s more.
27/11/’11
I had a panic attack again. It was horrible. Everything inside me suddenly became cold. My heart beat for more than a million times per minute. My face screwed up - I felt all the muscles in my face being torn and stretched into a frown.
The reason?
We were both on the ‘L-shaped’ couch. We finished watching Scott Pilgrim with two girls on the floor. When the movie finished, all was dark. I heard sounds. Slurping sounds. Kissing sounds. I saw an arm. A zip being drawn. My heart convulsed. Everything inside me was breaking. He was about to have sex with her in front of me.
“Are you guys serious?” I said out loud. Did I just say that out loud?
“What? We’re trying to sleep” she said. We’re, huh?
Silence again. More sounds. I kicked twice as hard as I could. His head was by my feet.
20/11/11
I’m so fucking sexually frustrated.
I can’t even tell if I’m bisexual or desperateo.
I just need to fuck someone.
I have had so many chances to make a move on a few people, but they’re either straight or never attracted to me.
What’s with every girl being shallow?
What’s with every guy being straight?
Better yet, what’s with me?
Am I getting too lonely and too desperate?
Is it too lat for me?
It’s true, though. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I just know that I’m following a path I don’t want to follow.
Engineering? Really?
Only because I know having an Arts degree won’t get me anywhere.
Yet, that’s the only thing I’m good at - the Arts.
18/11/’11
You’re a terrible ‘best friend’.
You want me to change how I look, change how I talk, change how I act, change who I am. You say you’re a great leader, but you’ve done terrible things. Illegal and immoral things. You lie to boost your shitty reputation. You’re not a great leader. You’re a fucking douche bag.
