Sometimes, love is scarce. Sometimes, love could only be seen if you look closely, look for it in the corners.

Tonight, though, love is pouring. Love isn’t just brimming over the edges, it’s overflowing and as it falls you will see it tainted with anxiety, distorting its purity. It’s like this these days though. I try to talk myself out of overthinking, for it’s never been a good thing. It never made me feel better, but my mind always swam with possibilities.

Because that’s where we started, didn’t we?

A possibility.

What difference is it now, the possibility of you leaving me, of you not loving me anymore?

This is silly. You’ve assured me more than quite a few times, that I’m the one you love and every time I would feel secure.

However, when distance lengthens yet again, we part ways and I am left alone with my thoughts of what you could be doing, what could be in your mind, these thoughts haunt me. So once and for all, I’d like to, just like my love, pour everything. Just for it to trickle away from my system, just for the anxiety to lessen. Maybe if I see them on paper, my insecurities would seem silly, would seem too extra and ridiculous. Maybe once and for all, they’d stop nagging me. Stop clouding my mind.

I am deathly scared.

Of you leaving me, because I don’t want you to. Because I always saw the future with you. Because, fuck, I am so goddamn in love with you and it will always be like that. I would always be falling in love, more and more and more for the rest of my days.

I am deathly insecure.

Because I know I’m not…much. Because there is always somebody out there, hell, there are a lot of other women out there that I don’t amount to. They are better at something and you’d just look at them and I’d feel myself grow smaller and smaller.

They’re beautiful and not as much of a burden as I am. They are just SO MUCH BETTER than me, and every day as you carry on seeing them, being around them, and thinking of them I fear–my heart is squeezed into pulp by fear–that you’d start to want them over me.

I am deathly jealous.

Of girls you talk to comfortably without drama. Of girls you follow on social media who are so fucking gorgeous while I’m a fucking potato. Of girls.

Yeah, I’m that ridiculous. I’m jealous of any girl you see that makes you look at them twice.

Because, I want you to look at me the same way.

Because you used to, but not anymore.

Yeah, you’ve changed.

I’m not blaming you, no.

I guess I’m just realizing the changes and I’m not really okay with them. I’m not saying you shouldn’t change because I want you to grow as a person and become the man you want to be.

But forgive me, darling, for I don’t see love in your eyes sometimes.

I want you to look at me the way you look at other girls sometimes.

Yeah, with pure fucking lust, even.

I want you to love me the way you did four years ago.

When you were the one overflowing with love. When I was the one you pour all your love into.

It’s selfish and childish but I admit it’s what I want.

Because four years ago, you didn’t even give other girls a side glance. I was the only girl in your line of vision. I was perfection to you and it pleased me, it made me believe your love and it made me so secure that you will continue loving me that same way, that same unreal intensity for the days, months and years to come.

Oh boy, I was wrong.

I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but this is what I feel. Forgive me, but my heart is speaking and this time, I have to let it.

I never was envious of other couples. I was okay with us being lowkey with our relationship. But I guess so much has changed that I find myself wanting to be treated as loved as that guy treats his girlfriend, as that couple who look so happy together.

I want you to flaunt me. I want to see that same love in your eyes. I want you to want everyone to know how much you love me. I’m always the one who shouts to the world about how much I love you and you were there, just whispering, as if you didn’t want the world to know you were with me.

I keep saying this, I know this is selfish and this is childish but I just want to know that you still love me.

Because if our love is rain, I’m pouring and you’re a drought.

– s.c.m.

(went a little too far yikes)
(pls share or leave a like if you like it(??))


6 thoughts on “POURING”

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