Yearning For Sun-baked Cheeks

I hate this.
I truly truly do.
I never believed in it in the first place.
As much as I wished that I would stand corrected.
I didn't.
If anything changed, my belief was strengthened.
LDR is bullshit.
It kills me that I have lost the faith.
I'm sorry.
You said to create our own world.
And to fuck the distance.
Well, babe, fucking it feels so darn bare.

It got me thinking, how much of ourselves do we have to give up in a relationship?
To give up our views, expectations or plain beliefs?
What if two souls are completely different?
True. The opposite attracts. But attraction may merely be temporary.
Do we step out of our comfort zone, just for the sake of it?
Is it really a sacrifice? Well, it sounds masochistic to me.
What if pieces of ourselves get chipped away.
And by the end of all of it, we're just empty souls.
Forgetting how we really were in the first place.
I'm not saying that it's all forced or coerced.
It's free will definitely. Full heartedly.
Which is why I think love is just sick.

I guess as kids we have a list of expectations of how love will be like.
And we glued that ridiculous list at the back of our minds.
That list would definitely haunt us for many years to come.
Like it's haunting mine...
I'm wondering, how long more am I gonna hang on to that fucking list,
till it ruins everything, right under my nose.

What is love anyway?
I don't know. I really don't.
This is only my second serious relationship.
Okay... Not that (serious) made it any different.
And I still feel like a lost sheep in an odd town.
Both taught me different things.
None of which defined what love really is.
You said you love me.
But do you really know what it meant?
I don't.
Which is why those three words halt,
as they travel from my heart to my lips.

This rollercoaster ride is driving me crazy.
Thrilling one minute, life threatening the next.
I find myself holding my breath at each leap.
How much more of that can I do before my brain blows out?
Or before my sanity leaves me... For good.
Maybe I'm too cynical for my own good.
And it's starting to eat me up whole.
The countless doubts ringing in my head.
The guilt of having to hide it from you.
Yet the wound inches deeper & deeper.
Self inflicted wounds of a masochistic soul.

Words don't come easy when necessary.
Not for me at least.
I wish I could explain to you how I really feel.
But everytime you ask me, "What is it that you're thinking/feeling?"
ounces of blood seem to have flood right out of my body,
the numbness in my mind, drawing blank spots...
I really don't know what to say.

I wish I could be as square as you.
Those four easy sides and corners.
Looking the same at every angle.
Those perfect dimensions.
Stable as ever.
I'm just a distorted blotch.
Always twisty & uncertain.
Shifting & turning. Not knowing what space to take up.
Not knowing what to look like.
Not knowing. Plainly, doubtful & unsure.
Liquid.
Sipping through the cracks & disappearing drop by drop.

You deserve better.
You deserve certainty.
You deserve an answer.
An answer I can't fully complete myself.
These countless holes take years to patch.
I don't think I can make it.
I'm being unfair to you. Unjust. Unworthy.
You said there's no such thing as "fair" or "unfair" in a relationship.
You just do what you feel. If it's right it's right, vice versa.
What if I can't feel? Or I just don't know what I'm feeling?
Hah. Is it really possible? To feel so clueless?
To feel empty?
To feel like a two-wheeler on a rope,
hanging in midair 1,000 feet from the ground?

This has been pretty mundane.
I'm constantly struggling to break out of it.
I need so much more to distract me from my own destructive thoughts.
Jogs don't work. Music stopped working as effective as it did.
Smoking became bare & meaningless, the calming effect disappeared.
Alcohol lost its spark, even with, felt temporary.
Standing in a club scene makes me feel isolated as the world spun into intoxication.
Writing songs feels like scribbling anger & frustrations.
Going out each day, expanding social circle became unnecessary.
Baking was a charm, now it became an obligation to finish up the materials.
I need to indulge in extreme sports now.
Something to make me feel like I'm living on the edge.
Like I'm unbeatable & nothing can possibly stand in my way.
Like I have the world in my hand & there's nothing to fret about.

You can say that I'm just plain bored.
I'm prolly going through that "teenage stage" that every parent fears.
The final problem before hitting the big TWO OH, perhaps?
The need to do something extraordinary.
Like a self-discovery trip across the globe!
To venture foreign grounds.
To break out of routine & conformity.
Maybe I need just that.
Hah! The antidote for feeling miserable.
Like how Elizabeth Gilbert traveled to find her true soul.
The true meaning to LIVING.
No doubt I'm just too young to know for sure.
Let's just say, I'm tired of waiting.
I need it now.
Right this instance.
Before it all falls apart...

This is my most personal post to date.
Revealing more than what I really intended to.
But erasing/editing it, or even not posting it,
would defeat the main reason why I started typing anyway.
At least now I have my thoughts spread out.
A slight burden lifted off my shoulders.
For now.

I really wish you wouldn't read this.
But deep down I know you would somehow.
For the better I hope.
That whatever I failed to answer you, is right here...