If you were lonely..

If you were lonely
and you told me so,
I'd be there in a second's notice
You were lonely
but I didn't know

If you were hurt,
when you let me go,
I would have come back to rescue you
You were hurt
but I didn't know

If you had loved me,
even if It were brief
I would be holding you still,
If you loved me
I wouldn't have let you leave.

I faded into you, though you've forgotten.

It's not great...but it was for you...

remember this?

It's a youtube link.

I wish you had dared.

T.S. Eliot (1888–1965). Prufrock and Other Observations. 1917.

1. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero, Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo. LET us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats 5 Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10 Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15 The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20 And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep. And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25 There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30 Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go 35 Talking of Michelangelo. And indeed there will be time To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?” Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40 [They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”] My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin— [They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”] Do I dare 45 Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. For I have known them all already, known them all:— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50 I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55 The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60 And how should I presume? And I have known the arms already, known them all— Arms that are braceleted and white and bare [But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!] It is perfume from a dress 65 That makes me so digress? Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl. And should I then presume? And how should I begin? . . . . . Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70 And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?… I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. . . . . . And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75 Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep … tired … or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80 But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85 And in short, I was afraid. And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, Would it have been worth while, 90 To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it toward some overwhelming question, To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95 If one, settling a pillow by her head, Should say: “That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all.” And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, 100 After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor— And this, and so much more?— It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105 Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: “That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all.” . . . . . 110 No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, 115 Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous— Almost, at times, the Fool. I grow old … I grow old … 120 I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. 125 I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130 Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

If you ever read this...

"Trouble words of a troubled mind, I try to understand what is eating you"

"I get on the train and I just stand about now that I don't think of you, I keep falling over I keep passing out when I see a face like you, What am I coming to? I'm gonna melt down"

I wish I was bulletproof to you. Thinking about you kills me. Thinking that we shared this album kills me. Thinking that you actually cared for me all along and I hadn't known kills me. Knowing that you won't talk to me kills me even more. What had I done to make you want to avoid me so badly? what have we come to? Why can't you just speak to me?

"This machine will, will not communicate,
These thoughts and the strain I am under,
Be a world child, form a circle,
Before we all go under,
And fade out again and fade out again"

I guess that's you. The machine.

Don't forget the last lines...

"Immerse your soul in love
IMMERSE YOUR SOUL IN LOVE"

You gave it up. You sacrificed my love for you. why?
In this world of nothing, You couldn't have kept the love that I felt for you?
The only thing that is really true? What do we all fight for? What keeps us moving?
What is the fire behind the engine that all continue on? Love.
I wish you hadn't given up and destroyed me, and you.

"If I could be who you wanted, If I could be who you wanted all the time"

Maybe I wasn't perfect, Maybe I couldn't read your mind. You weren't perfect either, but you dwelled on that much too often. You lost hope in us, in me, in love all together and I haven't. I would have sacrificed everything for you, but you thought I was delusional for loving you. You surrendered when I was willing to fight every obstacle for us. You wouldn't let me. You didn't believe in me. Even before our relationship ever started I wrote on my book, where you could clearly see it, "Don't give up on me and I won't give up on you", and what did you do? You gave up. You damn bastard.

"Where do we go from here?, The words are coming out all weird, Where are you now when I need you?"

This one doesn't need to be explained.

"You do it to yourself, you do
And that's what really hurts
Is that you do it to yourself
Just you, you and no one else
You do it to yourself
You do it to yourself"

You know I loved you. You know I cared about you. You know I'd be there for you whenever you needed me. You know you were everything to me. You knew I'd do anything for you....So you cut me loose and now you're upset? ahhhhh!!!! Mindfuk!!! >_<

Hate to be redundant but....

I loved you, I really loved you, I still love you. You obviously are feeling the sting as well, which means you're not completely emotionless. You were in this too. I lied when I said I'm happy. I was happy when I was with you, and now it's gone...because you chose to give up. I'd like to be angry at you, but I'm more disappointed than angry.

11:43am

Sleeping on the futon in the house of the man that loves me (let's call him Chuck), I have the most vivid dream of "Steve". He, of course is still avoiding me and we accidentally run into each other in the halls during the beginning of the new fall semester. He has the look of deadly fear on his face while I have my eyes and arms wide open to greet him. I was so happy to see him! He has on a tan t-shirt, and jeans. He looks like a gazillion bucks to me. He greets me timidly with a "hello" and I greet him excitedly with a "Hi!". To his surprise, I snag a hug, and it feels so great. His arms feel so soft, and there we were in the halls, me clutched tightly around him, he stood there motionless. I had the largest smile in the world for mere seconds. I could feel my body warm. Then he runs off and I'm sad again. I send him a quick text as I'm walking to the cafeteria asking him where he was, and that we had to catch up. He sends me a text back telling me he was right in front of me, I look up, and there he is, right in front of me, standing next to the vending machines. This time I give him a soft and sweet "hello" and I ask him how is he. He tells me he is O.K and asks me how Chuck is doing. I tell him he's fine. I ask him how his home life is and he replies "the same". Then i look him right in the eyes and tell him honestly that I still love him, I tell him Chuck is amazing, but I don't love Chuck. Steve looks down to the ground and lifts his head up again, his eyes seem concerned, he asks me "What are we going to do?". I knew he felt the same, I knew he loved me still too, I was so happy, and yet so scared and guilty feeling. Chuck really and truly loves me, and I've broken his heart before for Steve. No, I didn't cheat on him. I didn't know what to do, and I felt ungrateful. Even after all the pain and bullshit I put Chuck through, he was still there for me, like he was always there for me, even after i broke his heart for Steve five years into our relationship. At this point Chuck and I are in a quasi-relationship, Steve and I had just broken up a few weeks ago and I'm still healing. In the dream, it is a few months ahead in the future and it seems Chuck and I are still in a quasi-relationship because I had never gotten over Steve. In the dream, I know this is a selfish move, but i had to put it out there because I'm in love with Steve...I tell him that I'm willing to end my relationship once again for him. I told him I understand now, all the limitations from before, all the stuff going on behind closed doors. I understand and I'm willing to deal with them for him now. He tells me newer limitations which are even more restricting than before when I had a hard time dealing with it. I tell him I accept them because I don't want to lose him again. He gives me a smile and I see his dimples. I give him a kiss on each one and It's just like the way we were again. This is the most beautiful dream I've had of him. It has been a few weeks and I've had a harder time remembering exactly what he looked like. In this dream, I saw his face, perfectly, every detail. I remembered myself staring into his eyes again as our noses were pressed against each other. It made me cry, but i was happy. Now the reality is that he isn't speaking to me, he's avoiding me, I've sent him an email that he hasn't responded to. He says he's at peace. He's in denial but I don't want to tell him this because of the risk that he'd get angry at me. You can't be at peace until you can readily face your demons, and If I'm his demon, he should be able to face me.

Hello

I've decided to start this blog because I can't get these thoughts out of my mind fast enough and I'm wary of overwhelming my friends with my Bullshit, though they have been very helpful and sweet to me. This will be a personal blog once "this person"...let's call him Steve, decides to contact me again. This sounds pathetic, I assure you, it's not. This is a very delicate issue between two people and I want my hardest for him to reach me, but he won't, and I don't want to bother him.
Though I would very much like to, retelling the entire story would be a ridiculous amount of work, and would total to more than a few pages not to mention, a few hours or more of writing. Even then, I'd leave out so many details because this subject is so complicated. So, this is my confusingly vague introduction to sad love story, from an idiot girl. I thank you for your attention. :(