Want Me

Want Me

I am sitting here at 1 in the morning finding ways to keep myself awake in case there is a miracle text you send to me. I know deep down, in my soul, that it will never happen. I am trying to keep myself occupied enough to not give in and text you first. I can’t allow myself to become so raw, so emotional, so needy that I send a basic text for you not to answer. I just saw you, I just saw you talking to a girl that wasn’t me. I just sat at your bar, with your friends and watched you give all your attention to her and none to me. I just laughed way too hard at the people around me, even though they were barely including me in their conversations. I just wanted your attention and continue to want it.

I want you to want me again. I don’t think you are special. I agree with my friends, I am so much better than you. You are nothing, you contribute nothing to the people in your life, you give zero fucks about the people that have given all of their energy and all of their wants towards you. For some reason though, I can’t stop. I can’t stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you, I can’t stop wanting you to want me and I think that is the only issue here. I have always used sex to get what I want. It is not something I am proud of or feel comfortable admitting, but it is the truth. I have never been the best with relationships and nothing gets too serious most of the time. The majority of the time though, I can keep the guys I want around with the use of my body and their desire for me.

I know you haven’t lost that desire but somehow your self-control is out of this world. We both agreed this wasn’t smart, we both agreed our lives weren’t actually benefiting from these late night calls, we both agreed I was getting hurt and you didn’t want the responsibility of being in control of my emotions and feelings. In the end, though, I am still getting hurt. In the end, I still want you to tell me to come over when I text you, in the end, I still want you to want me. Without this control over you, without the ability to make you give in, without the power my vagina has over your brain – I don’t know how to function.

I want you more now than I ever have. It is not in the way it was before though. It is not because I think I might love you. It is not because I want you to finally realize I am the person for you. It is not because I picture a future together. It is not because I want to fix you or be the one that changes you. It is because you straight up reject me. It is because you do not want me. I find ways to be in your life that are constantly unsuccessful. I find ways to text you about dumb shit that constantly provide no response. I update my social media more than I need to just to see if you are paying attention. Just to make you pay attention.

It is like an insane addiction. It is like an incurable disease. I can’t get over you and that impacts this insaneness even more. All I want is to not care, all I want is to go to bed without craving you, without wanting you, without having you all my dreams so vividly. Why don’t you want me? Why don’t you want me in your bed this very second? Why don’t you want to fuck me then wrap your arms around me until we pass out while I’m telling you my usual 100 stores? WHY? What is it? What keeps you away? What makes you so unbelievably strong that you can tell me you need to have that satisfaction again in your life, but can’t have me come over?

Please, teach me your ways because I can’t handle being so weak. I can’t handle trying to be best friends with your friends just so I can constantly try to get a random scoop of what you are doing, who you are with and where you’re at. I can’t keep inviting myself to outings just in the hopes that you will be there. I can’t keep getting dressed for work looking like I work at a nightclub, when I actually work at a casual brewery, in case you happen to show up that day.

I want nothing to do with you, but I want you to want everything to do with me. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Darrien Marazzo

I just moved back to Boston. Trying to find my way in the city I once called home but feels almost like a stranger to me.