Monday, March 21, 2011

This Girl

Here is the story, posted by anonymous at TellMeYrStory.
"This Girl:
I don't think I've ever been in love. I guess I haven't if I have to really think about it. But I've come pretty damn close.
There was this girl. She was really beautiful. Not the kind of girl you point out at a party and think "I'm going to take her home." She wasn't like drop dead gorgeous. But she had the most loving smile, and amazing eyes. She had the biggest heart. And she was so interesting. She always surprised me. I never knew what was going to come out of her mouth. But everything she said intrigued me. She was an open book, but still so mysterious. I never really figured her out. I don't think anyone could.
Our sex was magical. It was amazing. We were so in sync. She's the only girl I ever looked in the eyes. Is that weird? I couldn't take my eyes off of hers. I didn't care about how her body looked or anything like that. She had this look in her eyes that always drew me in.
I don't know why it didn't work out. I'm probably leaving out big chunks of the story. I don't think she ever really knew how fascinated I was by her. I don't think I ever told her. Maybe I tried to show her. But I should have just told her, "Hey you're the most amazing girl I've ever met."
She looks great now. It's been awhile. We don't talk as much. But she always gives me that smile. You know that smile. That "you missed your chance" smile. I'm glad she has the confidence now to understand she's amazing. And I didn't deserve her.
I think if she ever gave me a second chance, I'd fall in love with her. I know I would. If she ever gave me a second chance, there's no way I'd ever let her leave again.
But she won't. And I don't blame her. She's going to do some really amazing things. And she doesn't need me by her side."
Here is the poem:

This Girl

I’ve never been in love.
But there was this girl,
This beautiful girl.

She was an open book,
Leaving out big chunks of her story.
A mysterious girl,
That always drew me in.

Her eyes,
Her body,
Her mouth,
Her smile.
She was magical.
I was fascinated by her.
I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

But I let her leave
And I don’t blame her.
She doesn't need me by her side.

I don't think I ever told her.
I don't think she ever really knew
That I’d fall in love with her
If she ever gave me a chance.

Defective Secrets

Here is the story, posted by anonymous at TellMeYrStory.
"Secrets:
I'm going to tell you some of my secrets. Nothing too big. Nothing earth shattering. Just things about me people won't know, because I don't show them.
I'm afraid of what I can do. I don't mean I fear success. I mean I fear the person I'm capable of being. I fear the thoughts in my head sometimes. I don't mean like I'm a crazy serial killer or anything. But I'm capable of hurting people. I do it intentionally sometimes.
I'm afraid that the thought of being alone and loneliness doesn't scare me. I'm afraid because it makes sense to me.
I'm afraid I'm not capable of trusting without doubt. I trust people. But there's always a chance something could go wrong. Something could change. You can't trust a person to always stay the same. It's not fair. Things will always grow to be different. I just can't trust that thought.
I'm afraid these thoughts and these fears are really debilitating. I have a pretty great life. I know I'm blessed. I know I'm lucky. But there are always these thoughts dragging me down. I don't know how to change. I don't know how to fix it. Sometimes it feels like I'm just always broken. Defective. Like I'm not doing this whole life thing right. Even if you try to fix me, there will always be the reminder that at one point, I was broken.

That's all. Thanks. Good luck."
Here is the poem:

Defective Secrets

I'm lucky.
I'm blessed.
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid of my secrets.
These thoughts,
These fears
Always dragging me down.

Loneliness doesn't scare me.
It makes sense to me.
Because I fear the person I'm capable of being.
I can't trust the thoughts in my head.

I can't trust without doubt.
Things will always grow to be different.

I'm afraid I'm a crazy serial killer
Or I'm afraid of being alone.
I don't know.
I don't know.
But I know I'm capable of hurting people.
Intentionally.
It's not fair,
I know.

I'm broken.
Fix it.
Change me.
Fix me.
And even if you try,
Good luck,
Because I will always be broken.