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Sarah Robinson Apr 2017
I'm not sure if I should complain anymore
Maybe this is my fault, I literally chose this life
Clothes on the floor, in the bathroom, overflowing everywhere
And she sleeps comfortably
4 more weeks
Lights burning until 5 am when you should probably be asleep because we both know you'll probably sleep through your 8 am, 8:15 am, 8:30 am alarms
And your classes, how many have you missed this semester?
Don't even reply
I chose this life the moment I chose to live here
But I didn't choose you
I didn't choose random civilians sleeping on our floor
Only to be alerted to their random comment on our behavior at 6 am when it's dark and the last thing a girl wants to hear in the midst of darkness is an unfamiliar male voice
4 more weeks
I did not choose your habits
The dishes have been piling up and
Is that mold on your sponge, don't answer that either
You laugh at the strangest things and maybe there shouldn't be a smile on your face while holding sharp objects
I did not choose my polar opposite in the worst possible way
We are like literal day and night and I never thought that I would hate it this much
4 more weeks
Just 4 more and then nothing but the bliss of being alone again in a safe place
My space
Sarah Robinson Apr 2017
You don’t have to try to be yourself, you don’t have to try to be true,
I remember when I couldn’t tell the difference between wanting to be myself and wanting to be part of you
Thinking that us together was so much stronger than us apart
I tried, really tried to be authentic
And there it was, this non-pretentious act I put on and for who exactly
My body played its role, poised, perfect, stoic
My mind was purely confused
There was robotic motion, robotic movements, robotic
The whole situation clashed with my perfectly cultivated values
The whole act started to fall apart, I couldn’t and didn’t try to hide it
I took a long hard look at myself in what I can only call a funhouse mirror
You looked at me too, a twisted version of what used to be there
And you smiled, smiled that crooked smile that hid from me your true thoughts
I didn’t know what to believe and it happened
The crack got bigger and bigger and I snapped
Like one of those huge trees slowly and gently worn by time
I guess I should consider it a blessing that I wasn't struck by lightning
I don’t even want to know how close I came to an earlier demise
But
What was it about you
What was it about me
Why didn’t I realize it’s called falling because you only realize you’re in trouble until you’re staring at the pavement 5 seconds away from splat
And that was the problem with it all
The idea that love was something worth dying for when I wasn’t sure it was something worth fighting for
Sarah Robinson Jan 2017
I remember the first time I lost my mind

That rush, that euphoria, that emptiness that came soon after like death was on the sidelines knowing the end was coming before I even had the whole experience.

I remember that first touch every once in a while

Our fingers intertwined, soft touches with that hint of nervousness, and we exchanged them shy smiles

I remember the first kiss

Thinking I would feel fireworks was juvenile but there was something that I couldn’t place

There was a rush of something, adrenaline maybe, just this unfamiliar taste

But that could’ve been because we were standing on the edge of a precipice, a little bit too steep, waiting to see who would jump first and while you whispered not me, I went ahead and took the leap.

I remember the conversations,

You, a caring, intellectual which spurred my heart in the right direction

Me, sheltered and reeking with a vulnerability way past its expiration

We talked for hours

Heavy discussions about loves and fears and a future that was ours

I remember the first time I fell.

That rush, that euphoria, then the pain that met me at the bottom when you were supposed to catch me

It was an Alice down the rabbit hole kind of ordeal, just I only found out I was in it alone when you looked at my broken pieces from above

I suppose I owe you a thank you for reminding me why they don’t say standing but call it falling in love.

And at the end, none of our conversations fell into a category that even mattered

Apparently, my heart’s too delicate to break, like every thing else, as soon as you touched it, it shattered

— The End —