The fact of being loved was difficult: almost intolerable. Being loved wasIf I had a nickle for everytime someone expressed confusion at my relationship with him. A goth and a hippy? Basic principles were being challenged here. But what no one saw was the uncanny similarities. Sure we were on opposite sides of the stylistic spectrum, but we both had a mutual dismay at being stuck in the senseless middle. We both lived in excess, me in color him in black. I've learnt countless things I would never had even fathomed, on his behalf, and I am confident it is true both ways. It is a sacred consumation, when two worlds can be stitched together on the mutual attraction of mystery. When two bipolar worlds join, a new, more complete one is born, and this is known as paradise. And I can see paradise by the dashboard light.
letting others feed from your resources- all you had of life was put in
jeopardy. Maybe you had to give yourself away.
i don't know what it is but i cant stand you anymore. maybe because I've been with you for 6 weeks straight. then i got two weeks of freedom, glorious freedom, and it's hard to come back to living in this house, with you, with whom i now associate all the wonderful memories of arguments that you could never bare to lose, the days spent waiting at each corner for you as you lagged behind inconsiderately taking pictures.
my friend told me last night, in alcohol fuelled praise, that you were real. that she had incredible respect for you. and i just couldn't agree. you're real only in the sense that you let us know exactly what is on your mind without bothering if it upsets us. but you don't take the time to listen to me, to consider my opinions, because everything anyone else thinks is completely illogical and a waste of time. you can't grasp that you're views aren't one size fits all. they don't work for everyone; especially not me. You can't...
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