"When you hold some part of yourself in reserve you deny its exposure to life; you repress its energy and keep it from understanding what it needs to know."
I am a masochist. I have a dirty mouth to go with my dirty mind. My mother pretends to not know me in public.
My mind is fickle. Today my favorite color is blue. Tomorrow it will be pink. A year from now I won’t even like colors. Don’t mistake that for irresponsibility.
You will never fully control me. But I will want you to try. I am blunt, sarcastic and thrive off confrontation. I live my life as a series of obsessions that I can abandon at any moment. I will never abandon you though.
I am restless and impulsive. I tend to jump before the gun shot has gone off. Sometimes when I allow my insecurities to take control, mania is released. I probably should be more embarrassed but I secretly kind of like it. I find the loss of control to be exhilarating. I know I should be more enlightened. I just find it to be so boring.
I am a walking contradiction, both afraid and fierce at the same time. I will tell you I am shy, but over time you will see it is being put on the spot that I do not like.
While most women fantasize about marriage and children, I fantasize about all of the places I will visit in the world, then panic in fear that I will not see them all. If you try to tame me, I will resent you. I constantly bring up freedom because it is a need I cannot live without. It is not for your benefit.
I get really turned on by possessiveness, and will sometimes attempt to bring it out of you. Don’t take it the wrong way, it is just my way of confirming I belong to you. Take it too far though and I will get annoyed. When I play mind games, you will know. When you play mind games, I will know. I will play along though because I find your mind to be so intoxicating.
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I play up the innocent card. It is not meant to deceive you. I just like the way it sounds. Part of my fickleness.
Sometimes my words can cut like knives, but if you show me your pain and vulnerability, and tell me your fears and secrets, I will do almost anything for you.
Hope is the last one to die. No matter what, it is nearly impossible to kill all of mine.
You could write a book with all of the texts and emails I have sent to you. In that moment, I meant every one of them. That will always be the hardest part of me to grasp.
Don’t get me wrong, in general I’m doing just fine. I still go out. Although, it isn’t as much as I use to. I get all dolled up. I go dancing. I laugh and crack the same dirty jokes my girlfriends roll their eyes to. I let guys approach me and buy me drinks. I even pretend I will call some of them.
I remain faithful to your ghost. And like a ghost you haunt me all over the city. Double takes have become my forte.
You once told me women don’t love you. To that I whispered “I do.” You didn’t hear me though. I said it in my head.