I think I may be old enough, just about enough, to be able to sing that Sarah Mclachlan song now. Now I understand. And after this, I should work on Love for Sale-

Well, let it pass, he thought;
April is over, April is over.
There are all kinds of love in the world,
but never the same love twice.

-- F. Scott Fitzgerald

I should not be feeling this way; it is much too late in life for me to be teenagering it up. This is ridiculous.

I hate you. I still want you back, but I hate you anyway.

Oh gods, I want you back so badly it hurts like a knife in my chest.

If I can't be with him, then I don't want to be with anyone.

Yes yes, melodramatic I know. But we all need a bit of drama in our lives. Anyway jotting this down here so that I don't forget.

It was over the phone
as it always is,
in the middle of the night
filled with long periods of silence-

she wasn't enough,
he needed someone
to fall madly
and desperately
in love with,

no hesitation
no pause
without thinking
head over heels.

In the end
he does after all
need someone
smarter
and prettier
and younger

so that he wouldn't be
stuck only waiting
with his toes
just on the
edge.

She is sorry
that she wasn't enough
to send him
flying.

That it wasn't
the fucking fairy tale
we are always looking
for-

I'm not that girl.


I'm always,
never that girl.



(Original Reference Text)
I know you can't hold out forever,
for a boy who won't jump.
When he falls in love,
he just stands
with his toes on the edge
and he waits for it
to disappear again.

We will always be a little bit in love with some one else-