I Wrote This For You

by pleasefindthis

To those who can still find love in their hearts, even after everything.

I have pretended to go mad in order to tell you the things I need to. I call it art. Because art is the word we give to our feelings made public. And art doesn’t worry anyone.

And then my soul saw you and it kind of went “Oh there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

So yes, we could kiss. I could kiss you and you could kiss me. There’s no science, plane ticket or clock stopping us. But if we kiss, it will end the world. And I’ve ended the world before. No one survived. Least of all me.

I think you’ll find you’re mistaken. My name is clearly written across the front and I recognise the scratch down the side (that happened in high school). This is my heart. You can’t just come here, and take it.

Maybe it’s because you’re one of those people that believes that sometimes, the most reckless thing you can do with your heart, is not being reckless with it.

And if you can’t say yes, answer anyway. Because I’d rather live with the answer than die with the question.

It’s when you hold eye contact for that second too long or maybe the way you laugh. It sets off a flash and our memories take a picture of who we are at that point when we first know “This is love.” And we clutch that picture to our hearts because we expect each other to always be the people in that picture. But people change. People aren’t pictures. And you can either take a new picture or throw the old one away.

I know there was something before you. I just can’t remember what it was.

I lied when I told you I forgot. I know it doesn’t seem like a big thing but I wanted to tell you the truth and never, ever lie to you. Because that’s how it starts.

You keep telling me to be glad for what we had while we had it. That the brightest flame burns quickest. Which means you saw us as a candle. And I saw us as the sun.

You were better to the ones that were worse for you. And worse to the one that was better for you.

Just like you mistook lust for love, you have mistaken being alone with loneliness. So I’m fine. Thank you for asking.

I’m sorry. But you could never tell the difference between the mood you were in, and me.

You are no longer here. So please leave.

This is my skin. It keeps out the rain and words I’d rather not hear like “I’m tired” or “I’m fine” or “We need to talk.” This is my skin and it’s thick. This is not your skin. Yet you are still under it.

Congratulations. You took me down. And now, you have made everything that is sad, relevant.

I’d leave the memory of you at the station, if it didn’t already know the way home.

I don’t know who you’re kissing now. But I do know who you think about when you do.

THE MONSTERS I MISS And every single thing you ever did that bothered me, is every single thing I miss.

I just need you to be able to tell people I was here, I felt, I lived and I loved as much as I could, while I could. And that the person that I loved, was you.

I’m not scared of never meeting you. I’m scared of having met you, and let you go.

Things just break sometimes. Maybe we should blame that third person we became, that personality we shared together. Maybe it’s their fault because you’re a good person and I think I’m a good person too. We just weren’t made for this.

So you look for patterns because that’s what humans do to try and make sense of things. In hope of some divine order. And you look in movies and songs and the things that you read for symbols, points and swirls that match your own. But the only real pattern there is, is the one you make when you hold up a mirror. And reflect.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s not knowing what’s wrong with someone and all you want to do is make them feel better.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s knowing that my mind naturally gravitates towards the negative and not being able to stop it.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s having to acknowledge that my feelings are my own, no one else’s. And, my responsibility. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s forgetting that and taking the way I feel out on the world.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who criticise things, who can’t take criticism.

Dear Future You, Hold on. Please. Love, Me. Dear Current You, I’m holding on. But it hurts. Love, Me. Dear Past You, I held on. Thank you. Love, Me.

Oh shut up. Every time it rains, it stops raining. Every time you hurt, you heal. After darkness, there is always light and you get reminded of this every morning but still you choose to believe that the night will last forever. Nothing lasts forever. Not the good or the bad. So you might as well smile while you’re here.

And you will find no fear here, in unkind words or the hardness of others. And you will find no sadness here, in the meanness of the world, in the anger that comes from those who feel small. And you will find no hurt here, in a million insults or a single, softly spoken lie. Because only a hard heart shatters. Only a hard heart, breaks.

Don’t you dare tell me nothing matters. Everything matters. Every fucking drop of rain, every ray of sunlight, every wisp of cloud matters and they matter because I can see them and if I can see them then they can see me and I know that there’s an entire world that cares out there, hiding behind a world that doesn’t, afraid to show who it really is and with or without you, I will drag that world out of the dirt and the blood and the muck until we live in it. Until we all live in it.

You’re too pretty to be weird and too weird to be pretty. And you feel strange when people try to talk to you. So get a job, it’s safer than art. Maybe people won’t point and stare so much. Even if they’re only in your head. Especially if they’re only in your head.

You will only be hurt a finite number of times during your life. You have an infinite number of ways to deal with it.

“This is the one.” The universe assures me from behind the counter. “But I thought you said the last one was the one.” I reply. “No.” Says the universe. “I sold you that one so you would know that this, this is the one.” “Is there another one?” I ask the universe. “I can’t tell you.” They reply.

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real. That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones. That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead. That you control that completely. That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too. That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music. That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when yo...