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Writing > Users > katiedarling- > 2011

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by katiedarling- on March 25, 2011

I am in love with you.

I am in love with you. I wish you understood what it is like to be in love with someone such as you. I miss you, and just seeing you would shock me. Seeing you would set my world ablaze. You mean more than anything to me. And I know that line is used too often, but that is how I feel. You are my life. My existence. I need you to survive. Without you I can just barely keep holding on. Without you, I'd rather be dead than alive. Loving you, being in love with you is knowing that no matter how much I beg or plead, I can't make you love me back. Being in love with you is crazy, beautiful, and feeling this emotion to the point of pain. I love you, and I know that even if I say it a million times, even if I say it until you're tired of hearing it, you won't understand. But, I want you to understand. I want you to feel what I feel for you. I want you to accept it when I tell you that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on. More beautiful than the most faceted diamond. And it's sad to know that everything I did and everything I said has gone to waste. And it's sad to know that even this, what you're reading right now, means nothing to you. Do you really feel nothing for me? Are you kidding yourself by saying that you're falling in love with these other people? I can't move on from you. I can't let go of you. You mean far too much to me for me to just give up on you. You can let go of me, but I won't let go of you. I'll always be here if you need me. Even if you don't need me I'll be here too. I can handle whatever you throw at me, just so long as you're still in my life. They say that everybody is in your life for a reason, whether they're there to help you, or you're there to help them. And it's not necessarily "helping". It could be love, or hate, or something else. But you, you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm not going to go all "Godly" on you, because I'm not like that, but you were put into my life for a reason, and I believe in fate, and karma, but you're not an accident. You weren't put into my life accidentally. I admired you before I even knew who you were. Do you get that? Does everything I say just go in one ear and out the other? That's what it feels like, because it's like you don't even know. It's like you weren't ever in love with me. It's like that whole part of your life, with me in it, is gone. We were infinite for a moment. We loved each other. We were happy. But now it's gone. You are gone. And you tell me not to be so selfish, but I'm not really being selfish. I'm just trying to make you understand how I'm having to deal with this. Because even if you think you understand, you don't. I already know how you had to leave me, because you'd be on the streets otherwise. And, I can't let us get that far. I can't let that happen to you. I accept that. I accept why you left me. But I don't think you ever really accepted how you felt for me. You never really felt it like I did. It never really pierced your heart and hurt you like it did to me. Love til the point of pain is how I feel for you. And I accept it. I accept how I feel for you, I accept the reasons you had to leave me, I accept the silence, I accept it all. I just don't want to accept it. I don't want you to not love me. I don't want you to never talk to me again. I don't want to see you falling in love with other people. I don't want you to be hurt. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I just want to know that you're safe. I want no one else to have you. I just want you to be mine. Can you understand that? Can you accept that? I'm in love with you. Of course this is how I'm going to feel. You mean everything to me. Your well-being means so much to me. You just mean so very much to me, I can't stand it. I can't stand how much you mean to me. And as much as I want all my feelings for you to just go away sometimes, they won't. I can forget about them temporarily, but they won't go away. I always end up in bed thinking about you, and about that very first night I called you at like, 12:30 am or something, and told you that I loved you. I always end up crying because I just can't forget about you. I always end up thinking about the very first time you told me that you loved me. I always end up being captivated by memories, or reading your notes over and over again, or writing poems, essays, page after page of things like this. I always end up going back to you. Wishing helplessly for you to have a realization. Wishing you would just talk to me. Wishing you would just say something. Anything. I'm in love with you; painfully so, and it just eats me from the inside out knowing that it doesn't matter to you. It burns like acid knowing that none of this means anything to you when it means so very much to me; when I claw and struggle to just hold on to you, or a memory of you. I'm in love with you.

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