Waiting for Phone Calls

Change

I have never been that girl. I have never been the girl to wait up for hours, waiting for text messages. I have never been the girl that can’t breathe when she hears that someone’s voice. I am a sensible person. I don’t go for boys that have pasts that would make parents scream. I don’t make myself look any different for boys, because I am not that girl. I like to impress, but I am not obsessed. I don’t consider people to know a thing about love, because we are young. We are young.

So what the hell?

Why are you making me change all the rules? Why am I waiting up to hear from you, not being able to breathe every time you touch me? Why do I get insanely jealous whenever a girl so much as looks at you? Why do I not care about your past, just about your present? Why am I trying so hard to impress you?

Why do I think I’m falling in love with you?

I do not fall in love. Love does not exist. That’s what I used to think.

So why are you changing my mind?

Feel

I hope you know that my smiles are for you.
That when I open my phone I only want to see your name.
My breath grows short when I’m around you.
My body folds up, my fingers grow tense.
And yet when your finger traced mine cautiously,
I couldn’t help but breathe easy.
It was only for a moment but it felt like something.
It felt like something I could learn to love.

Save

 

If I were standing there, my hand in someone’s chest, my fingers wrapped around a bomb, who would I want there? Who would I want to be standing there, reassuring me? Helping me through it all?

Who would run away and who would stay? Who would be the coward and who would be the hero?

Is it true what Palahniuk said? That…once you save someone you love them? Is it just a case of mistaken ‘love’ or whatever? Or is it something….something real? I’m not sure. All I know is that I hope I never have to be standing in that room, with that bomb.

I think I have, though. I think I have stood in that room a few times already. I think life is that room. We choose who we want in our room. We choose whether we want to run or stay. We choose. Life is that bomb room. One wrong move and our life can fall apart. Or the right move…the right move and we could live…so wonderfully….

Waiting.

Bite my tongue. From far away I can’t feel the words you say they drift on in and out of my world.
And stupid me, I can’t relate. Do I love or care or hate? Are you my friend, are you the end
or just a girl? You’re still here. I can’t believe my life has not moved on out of fear or even knowing
with you something could go wrong. I guess I can’t replace the poetry from off your face,
 it speaks to me like I’m the only one.

I keep checking my phone.

It is a sad day when all you can think about is one person.  When your heart hurts and your eyes burn and all you want is them.  All I want is him.  All I want is him and all he wants probably doesn’t include me at all.  Does it include her?  Probably.  Probably does.

Yesterday seems like forever.  Even though we talked and flirted, it still seems like forever.  It’s like my brain has convinced me that just because you don’t immediately respond or don’t talk to me everyday, that’s it.  You have walked away.  You have chosen her…

So have you?

Have you chosen her?  God, I hope not…

Shit.

Just checked my phone again.  I wish it would just ring.  Or buzz, or whatever.  I wish it would come to life just so I could feel relief.  I hate these waiting games.

And yet, through all of this nervousness…I can’t help but think that even though you are the one I am waiting for, there is another one I am waiting for too.

I wish he knew what I knew.