I'm so tired of feeling that I don't deserve some one special. I do, 17 years too late I realize that I do deserved to feel cared about and loved. Why am I still single? Besides the fact that I may not be a supermodel, because people I know - and I'm not saying this to be mean in any way - are not that damn attractive eiether and they still have something that I don't. Love. Not friend love, of that I have enough. Not family love. I have just what I need of that. But something different and stronger than all of that combined. Everytime I call myself liking someone in that different way I ALWAYS get hurt. They don't feel the same. They don't feel anything at all. They do feel the same, but for somebody else. There's this guy at school, and I swear he likes me. It's the little things. But he's shorter than me, and it frustrates me that I don't give everyone a chance. It frustrates me that I'm shallow...not much, but enough to make me feel like I'll never find the the type of guy I'm looking for. Never find one that's interested in me. My bestfriend Kyrea says that I'm too awesome to be with someone right now. I hope not that much, because I want a guy that I can call my own & that will accept me for who I am. And not hurt me. Or make me cry. Spent 7 years crying, and I refuse to shed another tear over another boy that could give a less fuck about me. This one guy has been being really nice to me...but I keep my guard up. I spend nights just sitting up asking myself what could he possibly want from me? I don't trust people with my heart that don't earn it. I hate being this way, but it's how I keep myself from getting hurt. That's how I make sure the people in my circle are in it for the long run. I'm tired of feeling alone, no matter how many people love me. This other guy, I have a horrible crush on him. Just thinking about him right now sends my imagination on a journey. But we're so incompatible from my point of view. He's all I want and I'm all he doesn't. When he's around, my vocal cords completely stop working. But he doesn't like me, nor does he known I exist so it's stupid to let my delusions of grandure continue, right? Try telling my brain that. I'm so confused and it's killing me to not know which way I wanna go on all those situations. I'll take my own advice; let it play out and just hope for the best...

FEAR.

fear. 09.08.09

"And I be gettin' high, just to balance out my lows..." He let his muscles relax and slowly blew streams of smoke. Sat back in his room, eyes darting around at everything before closing and momentarily taking him to another place. Far away from where he was. His problems. His insecurities. His fears. Somewhere he felt safe, by himself, with his thoughts. Inhaled some more, letting his joint burn and cloud the bedroom with peace. With his escape. His mother doesn't like when he lights up in her house, but lately she's grown to expect it. Anything to keep him from moping, from breaking things, even if only for a little while. Intoxicated, he thought about his girlfriend. Her words, "You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can't push me away. I'll be here always to help you..." Never felt he needed her help. Too proud, is what his mother would say, just like your father...afraid. He knows his girlfriend doesn't believe when he says he's alright. Apprieciates her for that. The only one in a long time that can read him like a book. She's not what he's afraid of. Pushes her away sometimes, but losing her is one constant fear on his mind. Where exactly would he be without her? He frowns at the thought. Couldn't be much worse, not possible, he thinks. He takes another pull. "She's the only one that cares," he says out loud, but no one is there to hear him but himself. Paranoia from the past laced around his fears...She hasn't given him a reason to be wary of her. Another fear, lonliness. The mere thought of him being by himself kills his buzz but after a couple more drags, the calm ensues. Memories flood back, some good, some bad of his past best friend and his ex. How they ran off together, how she died before he could get some closure. Never told her how she hurt him. Bad feelings rose in his throat, took the form of bile. Inhale. A reason not to trust anyone, no matter how things seem at first. Fear. Enough to make him crave a higher calm. Took more of the smoke into his lungs. Exhale. His door opens and for a minute, he thinks he's dreaming. Until she smiles and says his name. His girlfriend comes in, closes the door and locks it. He watches as she climbs up his bed, over him and kisses him. Another high. Enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He knows what he feels for her is deeper than he felt for anyone. Can tell by that rush of her presence. But he refuses to call it what it is. Love. His ultimate fear. Amazing how you want something you've been taught to fear. And hate. And avoid. He kisses her again, cutting off his train of thought while putting his joint in an ashtray on his endtable. With passion. Passion that makes both pairs of hands wander. Passion that makes their clothes slowly melt away. He feels the temperature slightly increase in his room at the sight of her naked body. He praises flesh. Makes her moan, holds her face while she shudders and his fingers slide into her. Thumb strumming her clit, making her sing a familiar tune. Not their first time, but more physically connected. Brings her close to ecstacy with his fingers. In and out, he watches her body slowly become erratic, erotic, watches her back arch before stopping. She smiles, pecking his lips as he pulls away. She likes the tease. He rolls over, and watches as she straddles his hips, braces herself by grabbing his hands and slides down on him. He groans as he enters her. She moans softly, letting her head fall, her hair tickling her back. Feeling her warmth and her heat always takes him higher than the weed, than anything. Even music. His eyes slowly close, and still he sees her behind his eyelids. He welcomes her in any form, gripping her ass as she began to go faster. Listened to her breathing go from slightly controlled to shallow and irregular. His is that way, too. Grabs her hips, groans throatilly at their rotation and raises his hips, sliding in further, desperate to go deeper. Eager to please her. Felt her nails dig into his arms, watched her make the most beautiful frown he'd ever seen. Held her face gently, moaning as her thick thighs trembled. He drowned in her love, smudging away tears that rolled down her timeless features as she was immersed herself in a drug-enduced orgasm. Strong, persistant, unrelenting. She never cried before. It scared him, the intensity, but it excited him to watch her experiance the sweetest convulsions known to man. She didn't stop, egging him to the edge of their world and sending him on a trip further than any high would ever take him. Made him grip his own sheets, spill his liquid love as she slowed down her movements. Kissed on him as he slowly descended. He opened his eyes, smiled as she glowed. He loved making her do that. Sat up and put his hands on her hips, nonverbally telling her to stay as is. She kissed him, speaking the truth against his lips. His hand wandered between her legs, rubbing her clit with his thumb, making her shudder and softly speak, "I love you." A fear that constantly held him back from life, and even himself. He replied, "I love you too." Despite the pleasure he was giving her, her eyes widened and stared into his. Put his finger to her lips, to which she responded by sucking on. He bit his bottom lip. "I do. And we'll work out all my problems & shit. But please, don't be scared of me..." By the way she kissed him, he knew love wasn't anything he needed to be afraid of.

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cried writing this. loosely based from the song Fear, by Drake.

go shawty;

IT`S MY BIRTHDAY!