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Confessions of a Teenage Dreamer/Psychologist
My thoughts, dreams, aspirations. Anything I feel like writing, I will put into this journal. Comment, subscribe, love it, hate it, I don't care. Just read and accept it.
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Thoughts from a Broken Heart |
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Well, over the past few weeks, there has been a lot of drama due to a love triangle. Obviously, from the title, you can see it didn't turn out so well for me. I know I have to let go, but that is the hardest thing in the world for me to do. Especially when I care about him so much.
I would do anything for him, just to see him truly happy, but his choice is killing me inside. I can't even begin to describe what I feel for him. When I see him, I have this tugging feeling deep within my chest that doesn't stop. When he smiles, truly smiles an honest deep smile, I can't help but smile back. I don't even have to talk to him; all I have to do is watch him and his art and I am mesmerized by his talent. I can't tell you why I feel this way about him; I guess it's love, but unrequitted love.
You know, life's greatest lessons can be learned just by watching the Disney renaisannce movies, like Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, etc. For example, in Beauty and the Beast, the Beast lets Belle go because he loves her more than anything in the world. That is true sacrifice-letting the one you love most in the world be happy on their own or with someone else. I can't let go now because I'm still hurting, but I want to, just so he knows I am happy for him and his choice.
I need some hope that there is someone out there for me, but I have no hope. Maybe just typing out lyrics can help me feel better...
I learned the truth at seventeen, that love was meant for beauty queens, and high school girls with clear skinned smiles, who married young and then retired.
The valentines I never knew, the Friday night charades of youth were spent on one more beautiful; at seventeen I learned the truth.
And those of us with ravaged faces, lacking in the social graces, desperately remained at home, inventing lovers on the phone, who called to say "Come dance with me.", and murmured vague obscenities. It isn't all it seems at seventeen.
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs, whose name I never could pronounce said, "Pity the ones who serve, they only get what they deserve." The rich relationed hometown queen marries into what she needs: A guarantee of company and haven for the elderly.
Remember those who win the game lose the love they sought to gain in debentures of quality and dubious integrety. Their small town eyes will gape at you in dull surprise when payment due exceeds accounts recieved, at seventeen.
To those of us who know the pain of valentines that never came, and those whose names were never called when choosing sides for basketball. It was long ago and far away, the world was younger than today, and dreams were all they gave for free to ugly duckling girls like me. We all play the game and when we dare to cheat ourselves at solitaire, inventing lovers on the phone, repenting other lives unknown that call and say "Come dance with me" and murmur vague obscenities at ugly girls like me at seventeen.
 singergurl17 · Wed Feb 04, 2009 @ 03:36am · 1 Comments |
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