I couldn’t sleep last night, knowing you were hurting. I don’t think I realized how much I liked you until I realized how much it hurt me to see you suffer. I wish I could make your pain my own, to carry the burden for you, to spare you from it.

I’m sorry. :/

What’s more tragic —
Meeting the right person at the wrong time or meeting the wrong person at the right time?

I don’t know what I’m doing… I don’t know if I’m happy or if I’m fooling myself. I don’t know why talking to you makes me feel like I’m giving a piece of myself away. I don’t know why you make me feel both happy and sad.

I don’t know if I can honestly say that I trust anyone other than myself. Yet I don’t know my own thoughts, the way they change and regress. Who do I turn to now?

I am confused. I am tired. And I want sleep. Goodnight.

It doesn’t have to be like this.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a person in my life ever really fight for me —
To fight to be with me, to fight to protect me, to fight to stay with me, to fight to love every part of me. 

Too often am I the fighter. And I’m tired.

I want somebody who can give me just as much as I give them. I want somebody with scars and bruises like my own. I want somebody who falls for love as dangerously as I do.

and for the first time I felt your lips against mine.
It was nice, to say the least.

I have never spoken to somebody who has held me in such high regard, who has had so much faith in me and my character, who has seen beauty in my flaws, who has truly helped me learn to love myself again, for every part of who I am.

You deserve the world. One day, I hope that maybe I could give that to you.

But today, we are miles apart.

And that is a reality that we both are forced to face. The closer I get to you emotionally, the more I am reminded of how far you really are. It is debilitating. Wishing you were lying beside me has become painful. And my heart can’t take it anymore.

I always thought that our words would be enough, that the sound of your voice and the sight of your face would be the only embrace I ever needed. But the more I fall for you, the more I need you, here.

And I feel guilty, not being able to love you the way you love me, so selflessly, so genuinely. I feel guilty for needing physical contact, for needing anything from you when you’ve already given me so much.

I love you and I always will. Thank you for everything. You deserve the very best. And one day, I sincerely hope I’ll get the chance to try and be that man for you.

sadness can collect like drops of water in a glass jar.
we don’t always find ourselves facing thunderstorms;
instead, we face drops from drizzles and mists,
seemingly small and insignificant to the sky.
but little by little, glass jars continue to fill
until they overflow, sadness spewing from the top.

no two glass jars are the same —
some are wide, some are tall,
some can take a lot of drops at one time.

i’m a happy person, but my glass jar is small.
and the drops that collect in the pool of my sadness
are things that would teeter on the edge of other people’s
before sliding safely down the outside.

my glass jar fills easily.

and when it does, i try to stomp the water out,
to push my big fists inside the small glass jar,
to fight the sadness away.

it never really works.

i hope the people in my life realize this —
that i am happy, loving, and tender,
but i am easily consumed by the drops in my glass jar.
i hope the people in my life realize that
the words that may drip down the sides of their jars
sometimes fall directly toward the center of mine,
now indistinct from the murky water of the past.
i hope the people in my life realize that
i am flawed and make mistakes,
but will choose to hold an umbrella over my jar
rather than spit directly into it.

one day, i hope to take a hammer to my glass jar,
the sadness gone forever in a splash.
until then, i will wait for those moments of peace
when the rain, the drizzle, and the mist all stop.

Sometimes your words are not enough, and those are the moments I feel most helpless. Because I know that you would give me the world if you could… but, I don’t want that. No, I don’t want anything close to that.

At times like these, I just want to be with you. But sometimes it feels like that won’t ever happen. 

I don’t know what to do.

When we don’t speak, I feel empty. But when we do… sometimes it only makes me sadder. It just reminds me of the reality of our situation, of how far you really are.

A guilty mind is restless.

Does blood dripping off guilty hands ever fade away?

I made a mistake, far beyond one I ever thought capable of myself. I became a person I vowed to never become. I became somebody that I’ve always hated.

Do bad actions make bad people? Can mistakes be forgiven, be made up for… No matter how bad?

I’ve always prided myself in being a good person, one with integrity and compassion. But this mistake has rattled me. I question every aspect of who I am. I used to trust that I deserved the very best, but now I’m not so sure. I just don’t know what I’m capable of anymore.

I don’t trust myself anymore. And that scares me… To no longer believe in who I am, to no longer recognize who I aspire to be.

When your hands are stained red, bleeding from the mistakes of your past, will anyone ever be able to trust you again?

i can’t think straight.
I woke you and you didn’t mind.
the words you muttered,
sparked somewhere in between
reality and your dreams,
told me you wished
I was with you.

i smiled.

and when i apologized,
tripped on my steps and 
said i was drunk, that i’d let you sleep,
you turned in your bed and whispered
into the glow of your phone,
'i love you' —
a sentiment far beyond our time,
but in the moment,
i crystalized.

you make me so happy.
and that is difficult.