Yes. I'm back with a sappy love story. So shoot me. A few of you on this site knows whats going on with me right now, and therefore what this is about. [= Thanks to you guys for constantly listening to me rant.

-Bitty-

ps, Nobody's Listening will be updated ASAP. Yes, I keep saying that I know. But I am working on it, just everything I write is sooo gay. Bare with me.

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DON'T KNOW. ONLY THING I OWN IS THE PLOTLINE. DON'T SUE.

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Dear Chester,

(Yes, I said ‘Dear’.)

I really miss your

Hair in my face and

The way your

Innocence tastes

Insecurity and doubt. Those two emotions seem to be a reoccurring theme for my life. As per usual, my thoughts are circled around you.

I miss you. I miss you so much and you don’t even realize it.

I love you. I’ve always loved you, and you were always so blind.

Now that you’re gone, I have nothing left.

Nothing I’ve done has helped with your departure and the one thing you banned me from I know would help, but I can do nothing but lust after the green substance. Drinking, I know would cure my problems, probably better than the reefage, but seeing as I’m not allowed out of my fuckin house, I cant have that either.

But mark my words, as soon as I’m not grounded, I’m gonna get shitfaced, piss ass drunk ALL the time.

Hey, you never said anything about alcohol.

I think you can do

Much better than me

Your words dance in my head. I can find no solace in your suddenly professed love for me. I feel betrayed. You say you love me right before you leave. Why not say it sooner? Its not exactly something that randomly pops in your head.-Right?

You said it when you did because you know you had to give me some sort of explanation for trying to make me promise not to smoke weed while you’re gone. Also, you were leaving and you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences.

I bet you weren’t expecting those two emails, were you? I felt so bad after you said it the second time, and you left I felt you deserved an explanation. And an explanation you got. The 2nd one, was my parting wishing you good luck. Did I tell you I loved you? Possibly I did, and I probably said too much. But like I told you, I’m tired of hiding everything.

Damn the consequences. They don’t matter anymore. Sometimes, late at night, I wish you would’ve meant what you said, but I know you didn’t so there’s really no use in obsessing.

Don’t you ever wish for things you know you will never happen? Anytime during your lifetime. I constantly am. I wish for things I cannot have, and lust after glories that will never be mine. You, my love, are the dream I keep holding onto. My dream that won’t come true. Don’t try to tell me otherwise, fore I know the truth.

You don’t love me. No matter what you say, I know you don’t. I can only wish that you’ll stop saying that. It would make things easier for me. When you first said it, I almost cried. And the second, I was reduced to tears. The third time, you said those 3 words to me, it lead to tears and heartache. Now, after you left I found something out that’s just fueled my belief you didn’t mean it.

You told my once best friend you loved her. I don’t doubt you do, no actually I don’t believe you love her either. I do believe that you love yet another one of my friends.

But not me.

I know it, you know it.

Yes, you’re gone. Yes I miss you.

Most of all, I love you.

I wish you loved me too, but why would you? I’ve puzzled over this question for weeks. Why would you love me, when all I’ve done is cause more trouble than I’m worth. Shit, I’m not worth the sweat produced when my parents made me. I’m defiantly the cum my mom should have swallowed. No joke.

Since I met you, all you’ve had to do is listen to my complaints, and somehow you always gave useful advice. I trust you more than almost anyone in my life. Yes, there are things I’ve never told you, just as there’s things you never would tell me. We each have our reasons. But when I’m depressed and need someone to listen, or someone to make me laugh, or simply smile, I run to you.

You don’t even realize just how much of a treasure you are to me. I don’t think anyone does. Maybe not even me.

I never realized how much your opinions, thoughts and feelings meant to me. Not until you were no longer here to share them with me. I believe in a way, we were supposed to meet. Ever since that fateful day in which I took over the conversation between you and my then closest friend. Since that moment in time, a seemingly unimportant transaction between strangers, my life has changed.

Unknowingly, you reached into the deepest part of who I am, and began repairing a broken soul. Just by being there, and asking me what was wrong, not giving up when I said it was nothing or unimportant. You gave me someone to confide my darkest secrets and insecurities to. That someone, incase you were wondering, was you. And still to this day, almost two years later, the same can be said. You still are the person I long to talk to the most, even during the periods of time in which we seemed to hate each other. But eventually, you would always be the one to break down and ask me what the fuck was going on. Then of course, I pretty much always looked like the bad guy. And yet, most of the time, you ended up feeling bad, like you had committed an unforgivable sin.

Yes, that always amused me. Brings a smile to my face, while writing this. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

I really enjoyed the time we had together. Even when you fell asleep. I may have enjoyed that the most. You looked so beautiful laying, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Occasionally moaning, and switching positions.

I loved it the most when you would wake up. Still groggy, and dim eyed, you’d yawn and ask what the time was. Then within minutes, you were asleep. Only to wake later and repeat the same things.

I realized somewhere along the course of our friendship that I really did love you. People whom I shall not name, told me I did and that caused me to think, and analyze how important you were, and how I felt.

After months, I just realize I loved you.

With every fiber in my being.

And nothing will ever change that.

If there’s one

Memory I don’t want

To lose, that

Time at the mall

You and me in the

Dressing room.

I think you can

Do much better

Than me.

Michael Kenji Shinoda

END.

Weview pweesh?

Lyrics,

Better than me-Hinder