Untitled

What We Don't Forget
the things you don't forget stick with you. they stick to you like sap sticks to a tree. the way she smells all the time, the way she looks at you when you're wrong, they way she lives without warning. you don't forget the important things. when she stays awake with you all night when you can't sleep. when she rubs your back at night when your stomach hurts so bad to the point you're ready to call it quits. when you want to call it quits yourself, and she's there on your sideline cheering you on. you don't forget these things. you don't forget the times you guys get too high to move, so you lounge and laugh in her bed, with no care to your priorities or concerns. because the thing is, you love her. you love her so much you're willing to let her go. they say that the ones you love you need to let them go. but what if i don't want to let her go? what if i want to be by her side for the rest of my life? what if i know that she is the love of my fucking life?

i've been through hell and back, and i've been through love. you know you're fucked when you can't stop smelling her. the way a girl can smell can almost be orgasmic. they have this unrealistic power to bring us guys to our knees. and it's all because the way they smell. fuck the way they smell. why do they have to smell so god damn good?
girls have this uncanny ability to make the smartest men speak baby talk. how do they get away with this shit? i swear, it should be illegal. but anyways, to get back on topic, i guess men aren't supposed to understand women. maybe we aren't "hardwired" in the brain to understand the way women think , speak, and act. all i know, is that at some point, i fucked up. where and when, are two questions that i truly don't know the answer to.

why do we love those we can't have? what makes it human nature to want what we can't have? it doesn't make sense to me. it seems almost... inhumane, ironically enough. to yearn for what isn't ours, it's barbaric! or is it? they say the heart wants what the heart wants, and that's something i will never disagree with. but the way i see it, the heart is literally what keeps us alive, day after day. breath after breath, minute after minute. and our decisions and next moves are based off what our heart desires. but if the heart is something we base our love off of, why does it hurt us every chance it gets? why do i go home with the feeling of emptiness and bitterness? what if all preconceived notions are wrong, and the heart is just a villain in disguise? i guess we can only speculate. these are the things you don't forget.

i guess none of us are perfect. we can't all be superstars, athletes, rockstars, or doctors . all we can be is what we set ourselves up to be. but does it have to be this hard? all the time? why can't life be a stroll in the park, and we're walking down a yellow, brick road with flower gardens and daisies to both our sides. where the scent of wildlife can be smelled from every step you take. you don't forget these things.

we drink to remember, and we drink to forget. we've all heard it before. but have we all experienced it before? drinking in sorrow is a feeling i will never forget. it's the most empty and bitter i will ever feel in my life. i hope that one day i can look forward, with a bright smile on my face. i hope that one day i can look in the mirror and be proud of what i see. i hope that one day i won't let young love interfere with everything i plan on doing with my future. the truth is, i hope she is happy. fuck, it hurts to even type, but i hope she finds love. she deserves it, i deserve it, we all deserve it. we all deserve to find that someone that makes us second guess everything, we all deserve to find that someone who makes us do what we thought we would or could never do. we all deserve to find that someone who makes us test our boundaries and live life like it should have been lived. i don't hate her, although my general speech says otherwise. i love her, and always will. i will never stop loving her. and that's how fucking brutally honest i can be. but that's all there is to it. truth, honesty, and false hope. but the way i see it, maybe it's a good thing this is a tale of lost love rather than a story of love found. maybe this is the way the story is supposed to go. good guy finds girl, girl changes good guys world, good guy loses girl, world is completely different for the good guy. yeah, maybe this is a good thing. who knows? maybe on this gorgeous, fall night, he finds peace? maybe he finds that clarity he's been looking so long for? no worries though, he'll find something. whether it's a stroke of clarity, a moment of brilliance, or something as simple as the passing of a falling, autumn leaf so close to his ear he can almost taste the oak. he will ALWAYS think of her, and she will be his every season. she will be what he sees when he wakes up and goes to bed. she is his everything. she was his everything. he will move on.