That Split Second? It Eventually Passes

There's that split second where I think about forgiving you.

Where I remember the way you made me smile, or how I felt safe in your arms.

Where I remember the taste of your lips and the sound of your voice.

And when I remember all those things, at the same time, I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss being yours.

Because no matter what I tell everyone else, I did care about you. I trusted you. Even when everyone else didn't.

And knowing that that didn't matter as you lied to me?

It hurts.

It hurt knowing I was just another girls you used your lines on.

It hurt knowing that you think I'm stupid enough to not see through your bullshit.

But the thing is, after that split second passes, I remember how love really feels.

And as you continue to try feed me lies about how you feel, I continue to realize just how glad I am we're done.

Because I know I deserve better.

New Bucket List

1. De my hair blonde
2. Be the lead singer of a band
3. Experience "summer love"
4. Move to Chicago
5. Make a twinky cake
6. Eat the twinky cake
7. have my own radio show
8. Make a cartoon
9. Be a vegetarian for at least a week
10. Get a tattoo
11. Go to India
12. Work in the converse store
13. Punch somebody in the face
14. Be a model
15. Kiss a guy under a mistletoe
16. Write a memoir about my life
17. Take boxing
18. Write a love song
19. Make an"I'm a writer" speech
20. Have my own confidence campaign

Her thoughts evolved around one person.

Alex.

Talking to him was so-effortless. So simple. It was like nothing had changed.

She smiled unconsciously. And as she did so, she found herself imagining their future. Her mind forwarded to the day he would tell her that he never stopped loving her. She envisioned the day he'd kiss her again, his hand cupping her chin gently.

She saw them walking side by side when they were older, catching up on the past, separated only by the different paths their lives took.

It was then at that moment, while she imagined all this, that Isabel realized that she still loved Alex.

The realization struck her suddenly.

Her heart always belonged to him.

So called relationship

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic. Maybe it was was wrong for me to think that there's a mutual respect for the person you're with when you're in a relationship. An agreement that you should be faithful to each other. That means not telling one of her best friends that you have feelings for them, and flirting with them.

Maybe it was just me.

I mean, the least you could have done was tell me the truth, instead of lying through your teeth and trying to make me swoon with the words i love you that I know you don't mean, because let's be honest: it was only, what, two weeks?

Don't bullshit me.

So it's not about the feelings that were formed. It was about the trust that was broken. Because yeah, I trusted you.

It was about the ego that was slightly bruised for that split second when the truth really came out. Because no matter how well I can pretend that I came out unscathed, I know that's not true.

So call me a hopeless romantic. Tell me that what I want is illogical, and watch as I continue to look for someone who actually respects me enough to tell me the truth, to love me completely, with no intention of making me share you with someone else.

In the end, though, I'm the one who's gonna come out stronger, remembering you as some douche with an oversized ego and overused pickup lines.

And our so-called relationship? What's more to say?

Brown Eyes

You and me? We're a trainwreck. I like you. Then I don't.
I know that I shouldn't be talking to you. But I do anyway.
You make me smile, and your voice makes my heart melt.
But what am I feeling?
Is it real?
Because I can't tell.
And it's driving me crazy.
You're driving me crazy.
And I can't take it. This game we're playing. Because let's not lie to each other. I don't love you. I never did.
But for some reason, I'm having a hard time letting you go. And so are you. So here I am, asking myself, what the hell am I doing? Cause I could've sworn we were done.
But for some reason, you're the one thought on my mind that won't erase.
You're bad for me. I know that.

So why can't I let you go?