Confessions of the abnormal

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
My confessions of love and my attitude towards certain aspects of relationships

Submitted: October 31, 2011

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Submitted: October 31, 2011

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How can someone be o beautiful but you never notice until you have lived your life to long and it is no longer fresh. The girl I love will never be able to be my first choice because I have already chosen my first. When you ask someone they say it doesn't matter but that isn't true. No matter what that will always be true, being a choice other than the first will always be true. So how do you create a relationship from that or is it even possible to create a real relationship from it. But also, why must we put a title on someone that we feel for. If you love someone, that is it, you love them. Why should I call them my friend, my girlfriend, or my wife, why not just say I love that person, we spend a lot of time together or we live together. That person is still a person, not a thing we title. I completely understand it when someone says they don't want to commit to anyone, I wouldn't want that either. I don't want any other title than my birth given name. Don't call me your boyfriend, I am not your boyfriend, I am your lover in that case, I am just another person. I happen to love a girl or a beautiful woman, whatever the preference. She is, in every way that I know her, wonderful. I enjoy her company and I enjoy the time that she gives to me. She, although she does not know the full extent, is my true best friend.That is a very heavy thing to say given that I do not like to title my companions. I would express my love for her to see but I believe my love is to much for anyone to see. But, then again, she isn't just anyone to me. I think, constantly, of confessing everything I am, feel, and need to her but I do not want to complicate reality. I want to be able to talk to her on a day to day basis. To lose that, is to lose my life. In class, she sometimes looks at me. I feel like I am sludge and I am sliding down my desk onto the dirt-covered floor. I am crying, not physically, but in my head there is a river of tear, a river that represent my sorrow. My sorrow i because of the magnificent being I long to touch, hold, kiss, and much, much more. Then, in an instant, it all ends and I am sitting somewhere else, wishing I could go back to that moment when she looked at me and I grasped for breath. I think of how agonizing it is for me that she does not know exactly how much love I feel for her. It isn't just her wonderful beauty that drags my affection her way, it is the way I feel when she enters my mind. The way I think about her is unlike most of the men my age. I think about what color best compliments her eyes or what jacket was she wearing today. I wonder what time he wakes in the morning because I want to greet the world the same time she does. A "normal" person would say I am obsessing, this is because they reside in a world filled with hate and self-absorbed robots of people. I grew up in the same world, the difference is I can not be the way "normal" people are. I already think I am normal because, in my opinion, I am normal. I do not obsess, I express, my feelings, my love, my soul. The being I have talked about is not my obsession, I love her. I believe the next words would be that is it but that is not it. It goes on and on for eternity because my love is everlasting. I carry on with life, I still go to school, I still do my homework, I still keep up with reality but I still think about her, I still "obsess" over her. Only recently have I begun building a kind of relationship with her but I have known her much longer. I have these feelings for a legitimate amount of time. So many long, aimless, days where I thought I was going to pull my hair from my scalp. I watched her, unnoticed, for a period of time before I decided to strike conversation with her. I have known who she is, in my opinion, on the observations I have gathered over my long days of lust. Day by day my love grew for her from afar. But reality keeps me from actually living through that wonderful season from which she reminds me of. Do not think though that I am unhappy or that this is sad. Truth is, I am happy, more happy then I have been in my entire life and I have her to thank for that. I have her to thank for giving me joy even when I thought there was no one to put a true smile back on my face. 


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