I miss new wave and hearing the scratches on my long play.

I was careful for what I wished for. I examined weighted traits and quirks of personality and made a mold of something to lie next to. It seems, however, that the mind that dictates fate decided to finely dice little bits of my fantasy and distribute the pieces amongst many. Whenever I'm around these people, my heart is pulled a thousand different ways, contorting into an entirely new shape, an unrecognizeable form, warm and covered in rust. Like when I'm next to you and I know that I can't touch you even though the inches between us are hot enough to burn skin. It's always fun to break the rules but when every cell in my body is gravitating towards you, I still can't forget about her. All I have are memories from long ago, safely trapped in years when we were too young to know better, and those days are somehow still vibrant and pulsing and painful. I guess I want you in that teenage sort of way, when love was still tangible and mysterious and we all believed in together-forever. Maybe we'll always remain in dreams, clouded by things we can't say, restrained by skin with a conscience.
And you're too far away. Even when I squint my eyes your face stays blurry. You told me you loved me so many times I started to think it might be true. I felt small beside you, young and naiive, which I was. When I came back to you, your house smelled the same, like summer and weed smoke. I could have melted into it, I had spent so many nights there your bed was almost ours. I had to share you, though, and it tore me apart. If your lovers were people, I could have fought them off, but they were ethereal ghosts. I had to tiptoe around them and they were always stronger than me. They kept your eyes closed.
And you, the ghost from the past. I blame myself for leaving like I always do, but it's not worth moaning about now. It was long enough ago that what's left of my drunken memories of you doesn't make the day any more difficult. It was like a soap opera pilot built around two people who don't like other people. We were selfish with our time and attention and when it all fell apart I don't think either of us was surprised. Then I just had to move away and pretend like it didn't happen. And now that I'm back I have to pretend that you don't still drive me crazy.

So now I have to focus on more pressing matters so that I don't go out of my head with boy-craziness. Emphasis on BOY. I'll write sarcastic songs about breaking hearts and sing them to my friends. I'll fly through school so I can fly somewhere else and plant more roots to later rip out. I'll write until my head is empty and then fill it with whatever dreams hurt the least.