Seaside shorelines, borderline beginnings.

I think I know what I want.

Paths between fait and faith,
forgiveness, overbearing.

Like twists and turns of tides, riptides, or undertow,
You will probably never know.

Know where you are going.

Tomorrow is like looking through a kaleidoscope of different outcomes.

Be it triumph be it trump.

Be it failure, be it sunk.

It's all in how you see it,

I suppose.

I wish I could see properly.

We had been friends.

Friends for not very long.

I had never seen you before that day,
that day that you walked into grade 11 drama class.

I only knew one person in that class.

A friend of a friend.

When we were asked to get into groups of three.

You came over and I was annoyed but like the flip the flip of a switch I went from hatred to love.

I fell in love with you faster than a green light turns red.

I was so young.

16 turning 17 when I met you.

That feels weird on my tongue.

Many walks, moves, movies, and music later, something happened.

I don't know what it was.

But you let me kiss you, and you kissed me back.

My brain traced back to highschool in those moments, and how long I  had been waiting for this.

You kissed me, and kissed me.

And told me I was beautiful.

I cannot express how that time felt to me, H.

This is one part of one story.

What do you do
when you become
one with your demons.

Once they've been there
for so long,
that you no longer fear them.

I'm sure at first it felt as if you were under attack,
or
imprisoned within the walls of this cell that we call our minds.

What happens when you start to get over it,
when you start to leave
that demon behind.

What happens
when you suddenly find yourself
associating your self
with it,

not knowing how to be yourself,
without it's prickling paws,
it's suction cupped claws.

Is this some kind of mental stockholm syndrome?

It must be.

Feeling like you can't face breakfast without your baggage.

I need to learn how to detach.

I took her to my best friends house,

Was hard to convince her,
but eventually she came out.

Picked her up in my best friends car,
didn't have a license but,
it wasn't far.

She came to see me, and I was glad,
Best night that I've ever had.

I sang some songs and then kissed her, I held her in my arms
and whispered.

When I took her home it was 4am,
said I'd love to do this again.

She messaged me to say thankyou,
and that I made a
purple sweater look cute.

I loved her then, and I love her now. I know its crazy but thats the truth somehow.

Yellow sunglasses, hockey puck, love notes and a special rock.

You hugged me when I told you so.

But closed your eyes and then said no.

Still think about you sometimes though,
and hope that you do the same too.  

YoU hAvE * uNrEaD mEsSaGeS

"*, you make an oversized magenta hoodie and a purple beanie look beautiful"

", I'm falling for you,"

"I', sorry, I can't be with you..."

*beep, beep beep

I remember the first time I made you laugh.

I was trying not to say the word "like"

But I like couldn't do it.

You laughed so hard so hard you snorted.

I used to walk home in the wrong direction just to be with you,

I remember the time you yelled at kids throwing **** into the ravine.

I wonder if you ever considered the fact that I was in love with you.

Well, sure you did.

But you chose no.

Like the idiot I am, I sprained ******* on the side I most use to write.

Is this some paradox?

By the way if you get the chance could you do me a favour and define paradox for me?

****,

This is hard. I keep typing things I don

t mean too.

See what I mean?

It's strange how one single finger can change the entire way you do things/

The entire way you type.

It's getting to be too much trouble to try and fix the errors.

But I suppose that is how life is.

My finger keeps trying to move in directions it cant possibly go.

Understandable.

I am chaos and I am desire.

So say my dreams.

It's always between the two.

Last night I had a pleasant dream that I was dating her.

It was sweet.
Precious even.

But when I awoke I had to deal with different things.

It's stupid that I still write about her, but what can you do.

The heart wants what the heart wants, so someone said.

Right now my heart only seeks friendship from her. Ot at least,
closure.

She didn't even want to give me that.

Dear H.

Love R,