It is what it is

So do you ever wonder why the things that we can't have are the ones that are more desirable? If you're told you're not allowed to eat something because it'll make you fat, you instinctively want to eat it more. When someone tells you to not think of something, you of course think of not thinking about it which makes you think about it more. So when you can't have something you obviously will want it MORE. Take a boy for example. When he doesn't have any attachments, you look at him as a friend. He's genuine, nice, and most importantly; single. Though, you have no interest in him because he just isn't "your type" BUT as soon as some girl comes around and decides he's worthwhile and snatches him up, your bloody instincts come into play. You obsess over this boy as if he was always the lust of your affection. You crave him close to you; every inch of your body, hot from all the blood coursing through your veins. But now it's too late; he's unavailable. That doesn't stop you though. You continue to want him, dreaming of being close, wanting him. So what do you do? Nothing. Because there is nothing you can do. You just gotta sit back and watch the show. You could have been in the show, but no. You placed him on the friends latter and now are a part of the audience. Fun right? Now you can only imagine touching him and kissing his lips. Imagination, is all you have. So all you can do now is hope that the show will end soon and that there won't be an encore. Then when the next casting call is up, you jump for the chance and land the lead role.

Oh Boy.

Today, I found the boy I fell in love with. I saw him again, in all his glory. For the first time in a while, he made me smile. Just the thought of him excited me. Too bad it was only a picture. One day I hope you'll be that boy again.. not to say that I'd be IN love with that boy again but I would love him. For love doesn't fade, the person you're IN love with changes. And that's when things turn for the worst. But if you were to become that boy again, I would easily be able to say that I love you. For now, you're just a memory. I love who you used to be. Now you're just a stranger whom I have no attachments to.

Imperfect

You're like an injury.
Healed, but reoccurring
Painless, but has it's days
Never truly 100%.
Always a little less.
Sometimes you feel nothing
And forget it ever existed
And then one day
You wake up to the throbbing pain;
That seems to only get worse
Because you start to think about it.
You acknowledge the pain.
And realize its strength.
You cringe with pain;
Hoping it will subdue
So you can go back, to being
A little less than 100%