One day

One day you will find a girl who makes you breakfast every morning. One day you will find a girl who makes your bed. She’ll feed your cat. She’ll remain quiet when you’re overwhelmed. She’ll eat right when you tell her to. She’ll keep her achievements to herself to not make you feel inferior. She’ll spoil you without expectations of doing the same. She’ll keep her hands to herself. She’ll stay in on Friday nights. She’ll leave the friends you don’t approve of. She’ll stick to one glass of wine.

You’ll find a girl that’s passive and obedient.  A girl who has sex with you even when she doesn’t feel like it. You’ll find a girl who does not challenge or change you. A girl who remains inside the lines of your comfort. You’ll find a girl that stays when she is bored. A girl that doesn’t expect stimulating conversation or a healthy debate. You’ll find a girl who’s self worth is based on your opinion. A girl who puts effort into herself only for your sake, but doesn’t expect you to do the same.

She will be entirely yours.

A girl molded into the shape you imagine.

Just know that if you’re thinking this girl is going to be me, look away. Take your eyes off of me and turn your body in another direction. Your treasure won’t be found here. Your empty gold isn’t in my chest.

I don’t know whether I’m more upset with you for thinking I could be, or with myself for even trying to be.

Either way I’m happy you’ll find her one day and not find her in me today.

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Only human

I realized what he meant, by feeling as if you’re a ghost in that environment. The music was blaring, the heat heavy and the crowd growing. You become so consumed by the addicting noise streaming through your ears and the weightless atmosphere brought on by multiple drinks that you become completely unrecognizable–not only to others, but to yourself. At least, that’s how it seemed when I glanced over at him that night. His head banging to the bass of the music and feet sliding back and forth to the rhythm. I smiled slightly, only because he looked so content at his ability to escape.

A group of girls stood next to him looking at him in curiosity, but he had no recognition of them at all. His eyes were completely empty, his face expressionless. He had become a ghost. And then he even disappeared like one, running off into the crowd. I stood on my toes, trying to catch sight of his hat in the sea of people, but couldn’t find him.

“What the fuck?” I looked over at my friend, who simply shrugged, unamused with the disappearing act. He focused his attention back to the stage and continued dancing. I tried. I tried hard to just focus on the music, to fucking disappear myself, but I felt everything. I felt my heart dropping and shoulders shrinking. I felt any movement of dancing that I attempted was useless and utterly vacant. A paranormal figure wouldn’t feel as much as I did in that moment. I sure as hell knew he wasn’t feeling the way I did.

He disappeared, and I stayed so clearly visible. Both my friends and the crowd sensing every movement, every turn of my head as I looked around for him. The mood between us collapsed completely, unable to be rebuilt by the vodka running through my veins or the music pouring out of the speakers surrounding us. This was one thing that music couldn’t possibly fix, because I knew it wasn’t going to be a good night and once you get that into your head it’s impossible to escape it. Once that feeling becomes conscious, there’s no way of preparing some sort of Houdini act to get rid of it.

So, we left early without a trace of him and headed towards the hotel room. My heart was thumping so loud it could’ve burst out of my chest at any moment. The thing was, I knew something bad was going to happen. I felt it deep down in the pit of my stomach that remained uneasy ever since getting in the front seat of his car the first time he took me out. I had this hideous feeling that he was going to end up hurting me. Yet, I still sat next to him in that seat comfortably. I laid in his bed willingly, opened up to him hesitantly and handed over my heart reluctantly. I thought that even though he may hurt me, I was strong enough to take on whatever he could throw at me. But, when I saw him laying down next to another girl, his arms wrapped around her tightly in the hotel bed, I knew I was wrong to ever feel that comfortable. I knew I was wrong to ever get into that fucking car of his.

You may feel like a ghost–like you are untouchable, empty, hollow and unseen, but you’re not. You’re human and you are seen. You’re false words are heard, brief touch is felt and guilty acts are watched. The loud music, chaotic crowd and double shots of whiskey don’t cover up shit.