Butterflies. A million. If not more.
Inside myself, making every move feel electrifying, and every touch so much more felt.
I don’t like falling in love. It feels like I am loosing the ground beneath my legs, and I just fall. Thinking I am falling upwards, as Alice does when she falls into the rabbit hole, but inside I clash onto the ground.
Life has it ups and downs. So does love. I felt the butterflies again. And I smile weirdly when I think of you.
My friend said you can read it from my eyes, cause when you enter the room, I can’t do anything but look at you. I try to remember what you smelled like, or what your touch feels like, when I am lonely. I feel like an addict, trying to remember what the last high was like.
I suppose that’s what I am. An addict. Nothing but addicted to you. And when I’m with you, life feels so good, for once. But when you turn your back on me, the shadows that seem to hunt me down at night, return.
Love is a balancing act. It feels like I’m walking on a tightrope, so high that I can hardly see the ground. But i do know that it’s there, and I do know that I fell down there before, and although i didn’t break my arms or my leg, it still broke my heart.
And just by thinking about it, i can still feel a shadow of the pain. It was like glass crashing onto the floor, splitting into thousands of parts. You just can’t reunite it that easily.
But while I am on that rope, life feels great. I have a magnificient view from up there, and the colours my life is painted in, just seem to be brighter.
There is days where I wanna give up. I drew what it feels like once. Its just a sketch, but you can see a girl lying on the floor, naked. Covered in blood. Her chest is ripped open. There is butterflies on her skin and above her. And it expresses so well what I feel some days. I feel like ripping open my chest, and just make the feelings go away. Force them to.
Some days I feel like the force love has is too strong. It scares me cause i don’t want to be controlled by it. I want to control myself.
I try to be a very independent individual. I try to be strong.
I try not to be hurt too much by the way my family slowly falls apart, or the way I feel like most of my friends don’t really care anymore.
I’ve grown cold. In some way at least.
And then I fall in love. Mercilessly. Of all emotions. Love.
In the last weeks I probably broke down a lot, I’m not used to that dose of strong feelings, but it does make me feel quite alive in one way or another.
I get better again. I can handle it a tad better every day.
And i love. I just do it. Those butterflies kill me and make me feel alive again. Day after day. Hour after hour.
Although my chest hurts, I feel like I’m blessed. Blessed for meeting someone generous enough to give me buterflies, even if they hurt a little.
Love and take care,