Everything looks better from far away.

so here it is:

i’m scared of the way you make me feel. i’m indecisive of what exactly i want because i’ve already given my heart away once and it was crushed. i’m fragile. i’m easily broken. honest, i spread myself too thin and what i have left isn’t exactly much. not because that other person still has hold of my heart, no, because they’ve burnt that to ashes and it’s gone. because what they’ve left me with, because what i have is small, because i’m afraid it won’t be enough.

but i’ve never wanted anything more with this semblance of heart.

but the fact that you could have the power of what’s left frightens me more. 

i’m scared because i know if i give my heart to you there could be a lot of beautiful, but also a lot of terrible. because i’ve started to get used to the fact that with my happiness follows despair. i’m kinda like a bridge, right? people walk all over me and pass on by to a greater good. in either direction, whether they’re coming or going, i remain middle bound. i never get to move on. so excuse me when i say this: but how in the FUCK am i supposed to know when it’s my turn? or am i supposed to stay suspended in this sense of purgatory metaphor shit? When do i get the real deal? if i try, do i collapse to pieces sinking? like what the actual fuck?

you know, i’ve thought about this for too much of a long time. it’s actually pretty easy. and a little strange that a frustration and realization are the birth of one rant. but i guess that could make sense too. so, i know. i’m not who i was. and i’m not who i’ve been. i’m someone different when i’m with you. i know that that’s something that’s usually bad. but i didn’t like who i was or been. i like who i am when i’m with you. 

it’s my turn.

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