It's Either On Or Off, There's No Inbetween

Thinking about you is like turning lights on and off. I only have two modes, and they are complete opposites.

On:

You are the only thing on my mind. You are the only person I think about, the things I worry about revolve around you; what I've said to you, how we've spent our time together, what I think about you, if you like me, if you secretly hate me, if I annoy you, if we're wasting our time, if you like how I dress or how I do my hair, everything.

When my mind switch is on, my emotions are a roller coaster. The funny times we've had make me giggly and smile, the memories burst butterflies to my stomach and make me think about you. I think about how it would be to actually be with you, to be able to kiss you, for you to wrap me up and hold me, for us to go farther as we evolve in our relationship. Truth be told, that makes me a little hot. But then my anxiety creeps into me. It makes me worry, worry so much about my mistakes. When I've been rude to you, when you've seen me upset, things you've done (probably unintentionally) that have taken a toll on my emotions before. And then I get quiet. My smile fades, I go cold. I get sad. My gut twists, my nose tingles and I feel the emotion welling up inside of me. In most situations, I can't cry over you. Because my pride won't let me, or I'm at school. (It's a mix of both most times.)

When I'm on, you rule my life. You influence me so easily, and it's exhausting. I wanna text you, call you, hang out with you, be around you, be with you, be the only thing you care about. When my switch is on, I want you to like me as much as I like you. I want you to think about me as much as I think about you.

I know you don't, though.

Off:

I'm fine. I don't think about you. You're hardly on my mind. I feel fine without you. I'm content, fine with myself. I worry about other things: school, working out, writing, drawing, reading, my cat, my mom, my messy room, anything but you. I don't force myself to not think about you, it just happens that way.

I'm neither happy or sad when I'm not thinking about you. I'm emotionless. Neutral. Not thinking about you can happen for days, weeks, if it wanted. There's no time limit. If there was, I haven't noticed it yet.

When my switch is off, the days blur. The time goes on, and so does my life. Not sadly, not happily. Normally. Boringly. It goes on and I don't want to pursue my dreams, but I don't want out either. It's like I'm waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for my life to start, or waiting for the opportunity for me to start it.

It never happens.

I just keep walking through the halls in my school, walking confidently but not arrogantly, and definitely not making eye contact with anyone. I don't pay attention. Everything around me is temporary and doesn't matter. Life doesn't have meaning. But maybe it never has, not even with you being on my mind.

I don't know what any of this means. I don't think I love you. I don't know if I like you. I don't trust you. Maybe I'm obsessed. Maybe since you're the first guy to show me any kind of affection or attention since Richard I immediately fall for you, not giving it any time. Maybe you're a stupid infatuation.

You're out of my league. You're like me on the inside, but unfortunately you're the complete opposite of me on the outside. While I've been able to see some of your soul, get a nice peek at it, that's not what others see. That's not what you show at school. That's not what all of your friends see, all 370 of them.

You're popular. I stay inside my small group of friends. You're friendly. I don't put myself out there. You're loud and funny. I barely speak up. You fake happiness like a champ. Instead of being the actor, I'm one of the people working backstage. You're attractive. I look twelve.

We're different. Maybe too different. Maybe you're a little too obnoxious for me. Maybe I'm too picky for relationships. Maybe everyone in this town & in our high school is too stuck up, too laid back, or too something else for me. Maybe you're just not the one. Maybe we're meant to fall for each other but not be together. Maybe my hate for you is masked by love. Maybe it's somehow the other way around.

Maybe I'm just a fifteen year-old who shouldn't even be worrying about boys, relationships, love, kissing, sex, cuddling, or anything of that sort at my age.

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September 14th, 2013 at 06:09am