Mixed Signals.

mixed signals.

The unavailability and friction, sometimes it's just too much. I'd follow you to the end of the world but the end of the world, it has different meanings, depending on who you are. Dedication goes so far, but that's another one of those words that has different definitions. Unfortunately, we all can't go by the same dictionary. That's what makes the world spin, but it's also what makes me really fucking dizzy.

Communication isn't my strong point, and you make me so angry that I don't want to speak. And I guess that's what life is about. You find the person who doesn't make you want to smash dishes and storm out of the apartment most of the time. But there's always going to be something you disagree on. And unfortunately, that's not something you can fix, that's not something couples counseling or relaxing vacations can make better. You can't fix what I dislike about you because I never tell you what I dislike about you.

You're perfect for me but you give me stomachaches. I get butterflies when I think of you but I also turn red when you talk to me, and usually it's out of pure embarrassment. You go over absolutely everything I say and you analyze it as much as I analyze you. I can't really say that I dislike that, but it drives me crazy.

I am hyperaware of everything I do now and I am not sure if that's what I need. I am crazy insecure and slightly (see: very) neurotic. I count ceiling tiles. I smoke my cigarettes too fast and then I get dizzy. I have a headache every day. Do you understand what I'm saying?

Sometimes I miss the days when I could feel absolutely positively worthless and lonely, because I was absolutely positively lonely and felt like I didn't have worth. I still feel that way, but I'm not supposed to be lonely. I'm not supposed to feel worthless. I guess I have things I have to work on. Sometimes I still want to throw things. I don't though. I think that's called maturity.

I don't know if its healthy that I'm afraid to open my mouth around you because I don't want you to make fun of me. It probably isn't. I don't want to talk to you right now. Leave me alone.

But please don't leave. I'm sorry. I really am.

I'm not used to practically living with someone. I'm not used to someone wanting all my time. I'm passive-aggressive and kind of cold and not very nurturing. Please stop asking me what's wrong. I'm not too sure you want to know. I'm not too sure I could even tell you, because I'm not too sure I know.

I want to tell you everything but I'm afraid of how you'll take it. Really, I don't want to talk right now. I'd apologize if I was sorry but I'm not. I'll apologize anyway.

Sorry for crushing your arm, sorry for pushing you off the bed, sorry for not telling you everything, sorry for spending too much money on things I don't need. Sorry, sorry. Sorry. Sorry that you're embarrassed to be seen with me. Sorry that you kind of hate me. Sorry that I don't have the capacity or the strength to hate you.

I love you more than anything, and I love you more than you love me, and I think that's why I'm always sick and I think that's why I'm always sad. I have a problem, I get too attached too quickly. I'm very sensitive. I'm not as strong as I seem. I feel like I'm gagging on nothing sometimes. Do you get it?

I can't very well explain what I want out of you or what I want from you or how I want to go about continuing anything I've started. I'd follow you to hell and back. I'd walk through hell for you. Fuck, I'd probably even die for you. But hell has its own definition, just like dedication, just like love, just like relationship. Maybe hell for you is heaven for me. Maybe we're not so alike. Maybe we're the same person. Maybe you're thinking the same thing as I am. Maybe you're just as afraid as I am. I don't want to explain myself anymore. I'm sorry. Kind of.