I am still in school, I still rely on my parents, and I’m still constantly thinking, “Am I doing everything right?”
The first time someone else’s smile began etching away at the mess you left me in, I felt peace.
But who can understand that when the person who’s been holding on for so long falls apart, they don’t fall slowly, they don’t fall in pieces, instead; they crash down rapidly in one piece paralyzing every little part of them.
A lost introvert wonders why he or she is suffering from supposedly negative conditions like shyness, being reserved or even unfriendly.
If we ever ran into each other again, we wouldn’t acknowledge the lack of closure. No, we’d act like everything was normal.
People ask you about goals and plans for the future and you develop an ulcer on the spot.
We barely let anyone in because we know how bad it is to have a part of you taken away – and this scares us most.
Yet, tonight, as my time in the city comes to a close, I didn’t feel jealousy. I sort of felt nothing.
It is a feeling in your chest, or in your stomach, or in your head, or sometimes even in your heart.
It gives you a charge, a feeling of precariousness, something to look forward to. And when you’re immature and physically attracted to the person, there is no more potent a recipe for desire.