eternal sunshine

deep breaths, tight chest

“What's wrong with a little bit of poison? Tell me
I would rather feel everything than nothing every time.”

—Ariana Grande; Hampstead

i know i complain about this feeling a lot. believe me, i know. i’m going to be honest: it’s indescribable, irreplaceable, and at times, just straight-up annoying. it makes me scream into my pillow and kick my feet in pure joy in equal measure. but the truth of the matter is that no matter how much i complain about it, i’ll always choose it over feeling numb. i’d rather feel this indescribable, irreplaceable feeling for you than nothing at all. i’ll breathe you in like an addict breathes in smoke and never exhale. you are the poison i’ll never get out of my bloodstream, the person who has me pacing my room at two in the morning, the one who i’ll never be able to truly have because i’m too scared to let myself. but you’re also the hope i carry with me everywhere, the vitamins i’m deficient in, what the water is to a jellyfish. and sure, there are days when i feel like everything is going to cave in and others when things feel stable, like i can balance on my surfboard on a cool ocean current with the wind blowing gently in my face. what’s wrong with a little bit of you in my blood? what’s wrong with a little bit of poison so long as it doesn’t kill me? it’s addicting, and if this were considered medicinal, then i’ve overdosed for more than just to kill myself.

tell me, do you intentionally braid my hair to comfort me? or do you do it to comfort yourself? is the repeated pattern soothing to you, familiar in a way that nothing else quite is? like the calm of the ocean’s surface, does a braid wind itself around your fingers or do you wind your fingers around it? now i’m getting philosophical, but what i’m trying to ask is if you do the motion for yourself, if i have any kind of effect on you, or if it’s only for me. it makes me want to scream and smile, this “effect” you have on me. i never pictured someone leaving this kind of mark on my heart, kissing it oh so gently because it’s still bruised and it hurts sometimes. but are you kissing it, like a lover would? or are you hugging it, as a friend would?

call me on a random weekday, and i’ll pick up. we’ll yap as i eat a pack of crackers, or you’ll lecture me on not eating anything i don’t care. i just want to talk to you. even in the brief sands of time, i feel it in my heart. in the sticky red syrup that beats through my body. it’s you. it’s only been you for these last few months. and i’m driving myself insane, because you can’t have me, and i can’t have you, and yet… my restless soul hopes. you know how exhausting it is to hope, despite your best interests, every single day? i’d rather drown with you than drown in a crowded room, where so many eyes could see and save me, no, i’d rather drown with you. instead i’m drowning in you. in those heart-stopping cerulean eyes that have gold at the very center. they’re like the sun and the ocean, and i’m pretty sure that even at the deepest part of blue i would still be able to see the sun in the center, because that sun is who you are.

“I’ll wait for your love.”

—Ariana Grande; we can’t be friends (wait for your love)