and we'll text and text of the good times that'll never happen.
when we text, you'll send me long paragraphs and i'll be sure to absorb every single letter you type, and then send you a paragraph back. but my words will be filled with vague and hard-to-read “i love you”s cause i want you to know how i feel but not unless you don't want to. though, i think you do cause i can read between the lines and see the untyped messages, meaning i can see the "me too"s or "i really really like you"s, unless of course, you don't want me to and then i can pretend to never even know of them.
but for me, it's hard to think that someone who doesn't care would text me at midnight to wish me happy birthday, steal away at moments just to call me, or write a paragraph that goes over the number of characters you're allowed to have so your phone makes you break that paragraph half, creating two text messages.
yet, for some reason, doubt and fear will pull my thumb away from the send button though my heart pulls toward it and it really just becomes a massive game of tug-o-war. my heart always wins though because it's pure muscle and my doubt is just a thought that likes to think we'll never be more than just words sent by an invisible force on a device we both won't touch, just only one of us.
and we'll talk and talk of the memories that we’ll never make.
when we're walking side by side my body screams in pain from loneliness and needs the medicine of your touch, but to the world “we're just friends” and nothing more. though, our stolen moments during the day between classes or our “accidental” encounter at the mall make me believe otherwise. cause i've kissed your face a hundred times before and not just in my sweet dreams i wish were a reality, but when we've been together in the shadows of everyone's naiveness. my lips burn of desire against your warm lips that i have yet to know what it tastes like cause i've never kissed an emotion like the ones on your lips before.
but then outsiders try to be on the inside and it scares the hell out of me cause you aren't ready for anyone to know about you and me. especially me. and yes i'll admit it hurts but the way your presence is like a magnet for me, pulling me in to be with you, and the way you taste is so exotic, and the way you talk to me, and the way...and the way...you’re becoming all of me and i'm just hoping i'm becoming all of you. so my greedy and hungry heart becomes more powerful over the hurt and embarrassment that you don't want to be seen with me, cause i'm good at pretending not to think that we are only the words that roll off our tongues when we're alone, bathing in the shadows and running around the light, never really fully touching unless it's the middle of the night and then even then it's only a kiss and once in a damn blue moon it's a handhold.
god help me, i think i'm drowning in all the “could be”s and “would be”s and “should be”s instead of “will be”s and “now be”s and “soon be”s. no wonder we created words like “hell” cause we need something to describe what we feel are but also words like 'love' to describe why we live. words. we're never really more than words, and that's why i'm constantly drowning in them.
lowercase intentional. Originally Finished: November 12, 2019 (I know, that long ago)
Edited: August 2, 2020 (Final draft)
All the people who reviewed the original version of this piece (I had every single review-yes all 6- open as a tab of its own as I edited this piece, I used suggestions/edits from everyone!):
Thanks to Writers of the World, Maryam Q, & The Great Gabs-by for calling out my grammatical errors and correcting them, biggest lifesavers when editing, let me tell you. Thanks to sweet Samina for her motivational words, "This writing is surely something which I suggest everyone to read and understand. Keep on writing and climbing steps to succeed."
Thanks to my WTW Bestie, Ursa, for her kind words, "You've made my heart hurt. You've reminded me of times and wishes that never came true, of words never spoken and texting at the oddest hours of the day. You diverged from my experience, but it's written so well that I didn't notice."
And an answer to Makoa Batongbacal's question (I would also like to know how this ties into you, for instance like what drives the writing behind it?) they asked in their review of this piece: I wrote this based off my own and other's experiences. "Texting" has become like a science almost, in certain situations and with certain people, and it's weird to think about. So yeah, I've been heartbroken over boys who were never really mine but I thought they were over some messages. Crazy, uh? So I wrote this to express the pain and emotion in it, to tell teenage girls-or anyone, really- they aren't alone, as well as somewhat dis the obsession of texting. Plus, this all poured out of me so yeah, creative outlet! Please enjoy!
Lastly, bisexualbabie's comment, "this is gorgeous i hope whoever this is about feels the same deep emotions you do keep your head up bb<3 love you lots<3" was soooooo sweet and encouraging! Thanks for the hope and love!