Today's post is a little different from what this blog is really about.
This won't happen a lot, because I don't really like it when people know too much about what's on my mind. But hey, I've had this bottled up for about a year now and I just thought 'why not blog about it? maybe it might help'.
With that said, this post is probably going to be very sad, very personal, very cliche and a lot cheesier than I would ever like to admit. This post is directed to one person specifically but I thin it can relate to a lot of you so yeah xx
**
One day you're going to meet someone. Things will be difficult at first, because no matter how your personality is, we all struggle with meeting new people. You might not like each other at all at first or might immediately click. You can either not talk to each other at all for a long amount of time or you can be fast friends and spend a lot of time together, always making conversation. There are endless possibilities for how love can start. Sometimes, love doesn't even start at all. Sometimes you don't even see it coming; you never notice it until it gets so close to you and hits you so hard that you've got nowhere to run and no way to deny it. One day you'll find out love was always there for you and you might have just not seen it.
I know how people feel about teenage love and teenagers. They think teenage love isn't real. They think teenagers are stupid. Teenagers aren't stupid and even though for the longest time I thought teenage love wasn't real, I proved myself wrong. You proved me wrong. After various relationships who turned out wrong, you gave me the security I needed to believe that teenage love is indeed real and it can scar you for life.
Myth says you'll always remember your first love. You weren't my first boyfriend but maybe you were my first love, because I can't seem to get you out of my mind. You creep. You live inside my darkest thoughts and in the dust full corners of my mind. You are there when no one else is. You are there when I find myself feeling alone int he middle of a crowded room. You show up.
Truth is though, you never really were my boyfriend. You were never really mine and maybe saying that hurts me more than saying you're gone now. The realization that you were never permanent in my life lingers in me at night. It haunts me.
A year ago, no one knew about us and I thought it was great. We didn't have to deal with unnecessary drama, with questions and jokes and we didn't have to explain anything to anyone. How many people knew? Two? Maybe three? I know for sure it couldn't have been more than five. We walked side by side with the same 30 people everyday and we still managed to stay unnoticed. I loved it. I loved the fact that you were mine and I was yours and no one knew about it.
You were the first one to know about my insomnia. You were also the first one to be there at night, every night, helping me fall asleep. You would talk to me, and tell me jokes and stories. God, you loved to talk and I loved to listen.
You had the most beautiful voice ever. It was music to my ears. You were soft. Even though I don't remember the sound of your voice now, because it's been so long, I still remember how I felt every time I heard you talk.
You were like me. I didn't know it at first, but you were exactly like me. You are broken and misunderstood. You've been judged, ignored and hurt one too many times. You listen to everything. You pay a lot of attention to the little things. You notice. You always have an opinion on every thing and I was thrilled to be the one you shared them with. That was the kind of guy you were. You would notice something during the day and you wouldn't speak. Then, while I was walking home after school you would call me or text me and tell me all about it. You asked me 'what's wrong' every day, because you knew there was always something wrong. To be completely honest - and because you will never read this - you made things a lot better for me. You helped me through.
So yeah, you are like me.
Were.
Are.
You're still like me.
Did you know how I wrote about us? I didn't mean to do it, it just happened. When we started talking - we knew each other for over a year before we actually started talking - I was keeping a journal, a diary. I would write on it everyday. I wrote about everything but boys. That was until you came along. You told me about your dream and I wrote about it. Before I knew it, I was documenting the story of how we fell in love and didn't notice. I wrote it all. Your dream. The way you always looked at me when you thought no one was looking and then came to tell me about it. The way you would always protect if someone mocked me. Our conversations. Your secrets. The secrets that I told you and no one else. Your late night texts to help me sleep. The way you'd always text me one minute after I left school. When we made sarcastic comments about pretty much everything happening around us. The way you always looked me in the eyes when you spoke to me. When you asked me why I always look way once we talk for a while. When I answered that I only did that because your eyes are always on mine and they're to strong for me to look at them at all times. The way you smiled every time I would slip and fall; every time I said something stupid or something intelligent - because you loved the fact that I'm smart. The way we were. I wrote it all.
The first time we fought, the first time you left, I switched things up. I cut out all there was about you on my journal and got it together. Later that day, after crying my eyes out and trying to explain to my parents that everything was okay, I started writing a book. You always said you wanted to read something of mine, so I wrote something for you. I wrote our story. I wrote it like I was writing a novel. I still have it. It's still here, with me. I read it once in a while, just to remind myself of how beautiful we were together.
Then you came back, and I kept writing. I never stopped writing. Sometimes we'd be talking on the phone and you'd be telling me a story about your family, or your dog and I would be writing it. Word by word. No one has ever seen it. No one has ever read it and no one ever will. Those books are going to be hidden until the day I find you again. And when I do find you, I'm going to give them to you. You can read them or you can throw them away. But if you choose to read it, it won't be a waste. Our story is too beautiful to be considered a waste.
You're gone for good now. You probably moved on and are happy. I still think about you. I still write about you. It's been a year. I still don't know if your dream really happened.
So yeah, teenage love is real. Teenage love sucks. But if you choose to live it, you will never regret it. It's always worth it. Because, just like me, if in the end things aren't okay, you'll always know there was love.
Because I know that despite you leaving, you loved me. And I loved you. And maybe at the time we were too numb to notice but we loved each other. And that is all that matters.
This won't happen a lot, because I don't really like it when people know too much about what's on my mind. But hey, I've had this bottled up for about a year now and I just thought 'why not blog about it? maybe it might help'.
With that said, this post is probably going to be very sad, very personal, very cliche and a lot cheesier than I would ever like to admit. This post is directed to one person specifically but I thin it can relate to a lot of you so yeah xx
**
One day you're going to meet someone. Things will be difficult at first, because no matter how your personality is, we all struggle with meeting new people. You might not like each other at all at first or might immediately click. You can either not talk to each other at all for a long amount of time or you can be fast friends and spend a lot of time together, always making conversation. There are endless possibilities for how love can start. Sometimes, love doesn't even start at all. Sometimes you don't even see it coming; you never notice it until it gets so close to you and hits you so hard that you've got nowhere to run and no way to deny it. One day you'll find out love was always there for you and you might have just not seen it.
I know how people feel about teenage love and teenagers. They think teenage love isn't real. They think teenagers are stupid. Teenagers aren't stupid and even though for the longest time I thought teenage love wasn't real, I proved myself wrong. You proved me wrong. After various relationships who turned out wrong, you gave me the security I needed to believe that teenage love is indeed real and it can scar you for life.
Myth says you'll always remember your first love. You weren't my first boyfriend but maybe you were my first love, because I can't seem to get you out of my mind. You creep. You live inside my darkest thoughts and in the dust full corners of my mind. You are there when no one else is. You are there when I find myself feeling alone int he middle of a crowded room. You show up.
Truth is though, you never really were my boyfriend. You were never really mine and maybe saying that hurts me more than saying you're gone now. The realization that you were never permanent in my life lingers in me at night. It haunts me.
A year ago, no one knew about us and I thought it was great. We didn't have to deal with unnecessary drama, with questions and jokes and we didn't have to explain anything to anyone. How many people knew? Two? Maybe three? I know for sure it couldn't have been more than five. We walked side by side with the same 30 people everyday and we still managed to stay unnoticed. I loved it. I loved the fact that you were mine and I was yours and no one knew about it.
You were the first one to know about my insomnia. You were also the first one to be there at night, every night, helping me fall asleep. You would talk to me, and tell me jokes and stories. God, you loved to talk and I loved to listen.
You had the most beautiful voice ever. It was music to my ears. You were soft. Even though I don't remember the sound of your voice now, because it's been so long, I still remember how I felt every time I heard you talk.
You were like me. I didn't know it at first, but you were exactly like me. You are broken and misunderstood. You've been judged, ignored and hurt one too many times. You listen to everything. You pay a lot of attention to the little things. You notice. You always have an opinion on every thing and I was thrilled to be the one you shared them with. That was the kind of guy you were. You would notice something during the day and you wouldn't speak. Then, while I was walking home after school you would call me or text me and tell me all about it. You asked me 'what's wrong' every day, because you knew there was always something wrong. To be completely honest - and because you will never read this - you made things a lot better for me. You helped me through.
So yeah, you are like me.
Were.
Are.
You're still like me.
Did you know how I wrote about us? I didn't mean to do it, it just happened. When we started talking - we knew each other for over a year before we actually started talking - I was keeping a journal, a diary. I would write on it everyday. I wrote about everything but boys. That was until you came along. You told me about your dream and I wrote about it. Before I knew it, I was documenting the story of how we fell in love and didn't notice. I wrote it all. Your dream. The way you always looked at me when you thought no one was looking and then came to tell me about it. The way you would always protect if someone mocked me. Our conversations. Your secrets. The secrets that I told you and no one else. Your late night texts to help me sleep. The way you'd always text me one minute after I left school. When we made sarcastic comments about pretty much everything happening around us. The way you always looked me in the eyes when you spoke to me. When you asked me why I always look way once we talk for a while. When I answered that I only did that because your eyes are always on mine and they're to strong for me to look at them at all times. The way you smiled every time I would slip and fall; every time I said something stupid or something intelligent - because you loved the fact that I'm smart. The way we were. I wrote it all.
The first time we fought, the first time you left, I switched things up. I cut out all there was about you on my journal and got it together. Later that day, after crying my eyes out and trying to explain to my parents that everything was okay, I started writing a book. You always said you wanted to read something of mine, so I wrote something for you. I wrote our story. I wrote it like I was writing a novel. I still have it. It's still here, with me. I read it once in a while, just to remind myself of how beautiful we were together.
Then you came back, and I kept writing. I never stopped writing. Sometimes we'd be talking on the phone and you'd be telling me a story about your family, or your dog and I would be writing it. Word by word. No one has ever seen it. No one has ever read it and no one ever will. Those books are going to be hidden until the day I find you again. And when I do find you, I'm going to give them to you. You can read them or you can throw them away. But if you choose to read it, it won't be a waste. Our story is too beautiful to be considered a waste.
You're gone for good now. You probably moved on and are happy. I still think about you. I still write about you. It's been a year. I still don't know if your dream really happened.
So yeah, teenage love is real. Teenage love sucks. But if you choose to live it, you will never regret it. It's always worth it. Because, just like me, if in the end things aren't okay, you'll always know there was love.
Because I know that despite you leaving, you loved me. And I loved you. And maybe at the time we were too numb to notice but we loved each other. And that is all that matters.
It hurts until it doesn't. You think it's going to break you, but it won't. You may not sleep as well at night, but you will be fine. Numb, but numb and fine are the same.
**
Yeah wow that was a long post and I apologize for it. You don't have to read it, just ignore it if it's easier.
But if you made it until here, thank you for reading and I hope you've at least enjoyed it.
Something fashion or beauty related will come soon, don't worry.
Stay cool,
Rach.
Yeah wow that was a long post and I apologize for it. You don't have to read it, just ignore it if it's easier.
But if you made it until here, thank you for reading and I hope you've at least enjoyed it.
Something fashion or beauty related will come soon, don't worry.
Stay cool,
Rach.