R O L L E R C O A S T E R 

You're the sky that I fell through and

I remember the view whenever I'm holding you

The sun hung from a string

Looking down on the world as it warmed over everything.

It's night and, as the darkest of the day arrives, so do the gloom. Dark navy paints the sky outside my window and there's no stars, nor is there a moon hanging among the clouds. Yet brightness still retains as lamposts and lone windows shine. They were like beacons, leading the way in the darkness, but there was none for me. Or, at least, none that could lead me to the right place.

It's an internal battle raging and nothing could lead me out but myself.

But I don't want to think about it. 

Why would I when all it brings are deep thoughts and heartache?

So, instead, I listen to music that try to distract me but amplify the feelings.

(Is that any better?)

Circle me and the needle moves gracefully

Back and Forth

If my hears was a compass, you'd be North

Risk it all 'cause I'll catch you if you fall

I read somewhere once that unrequited love is the purest of all loves, unselfish and undemanding. I don't feel like that's true. Pure? Not likely when all I want to do is brush his hand with mine, place a kiss on his lips and bury my hands in his hair. Unselfish? Not likely when when I want to keep him to myself, resenting the fact that he's friends with so many girls and wanting to be the only one that makes him smile that way. Undemanding? Not likely when I plead in my mind for him to just please notice, to just please tell me that he feels for me too.

I can't help but laugh bitterly when I think, what's more unlikely: me having pure, selfish, and undemading feelings or him completely reciprocating them?

.

.

It hurts.

I don't want to think about it anymore.

(But I can't.)

It makes me smile because you said it best

I would clearly feel blessed if the sun rose up from the west

Flower bomb perfume

All my clothes smell like you 'cause your favorite shade is navy blue

I hate it. I hate how he makes me feel. I've been putting myself on the line, endangering my heart, just to spend time with him and to figure out a way to get my message across without me having to blurt out my feelings--and it hurts a lot. I really hate it but I can't help it anymore. It's too bittersweet a feeling but it's a good hurt sometimes.

And those times are enough sometimes. Especially when he smiles at me with that goofy grin.

I hate him.

(I wish I did. It would be easier, right?)

Circle me and the needle moves gracefully

Back and Forth

If my hears was a compass, you'd be North

By day you plague my heart, by night you plague my mind. 

It hurts to know I'm the only one like this.

.

.

If my heart was a house, you'd be home

If my heart was a house, you'd be home.

.

.

song: If My Heart was a House by Owl City