Mammoth Crush: The Girl In Me 2

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There has been countless times where I’ve felt guilty as fuck and couldn’t understand whether I love to fall into his girlfriend’s smile?  Or if I craved to crack her lips to make it go away?  Or punch myself in the face to assist in the erasing of every single corkscrew of a feeling dismayed?  How many times have I felt helpless, backing into a memory triggered and I was where they were, blessed and swayed?  My only intention was being within the same exact space he was in so I could inhale the same breath as he while my armor fell to the ground pressed and unafraid. 

..Stupid.  Oh so stupid!…

Anxiety twisted its daggers and rattled my nerves in the dark pits of my belly over what they do not know.. how I feel.  Except I have good reason to believe different say the times where I blurted real statements that were shrouded by the fact that liquor and barhopping was involved in spontaneity appeal.

I’ve created fantasies by the fortune of a big wheel by what I’ve seen with my own eyes (which may be just as deceiving as a parent’s love and affection for an only child) trying my best not to strain the muscle to my sight when I looked over their pictures and how it hit me thunderous quick like a jab snapped from the words of ancient scripture.  I see an amazing couple who meshes well like calm water into calmer pitcher.  They must have it great like the cheerful sun making love to the sky or how the moon melts it’s glow into the night.   But what do I know since I could only view what the grass smells and tastes like from the other side? 

I caught myself lost in the moment of what I perceive to be fact by obsessing over the imagined. 

They love each other and display it like fashion.  I watch and it makes me sick with backbiting spasms like once where I examined everything one evening at their studio apartment celebrating a party completely disarming, until I saw their bed and I envisioned them cuddling and making sweet love charming.  I plummeted without words or expressions ill to my stomach.  Mostly by the summit of how I actually felt about him.  And why do I feel this way about him?  It’s strong like the religion of gym. 

Sick as I was with an ex lover of mine to get closer to him.  Sick because I pretended to be friends with everyone in the circle to be closer to him.  Sick to my stomach on how it makes me sick to begin with.  I seethe and my heart breaks momentarily wishing I weren’t smart enough to know what feelings meant, just before I come around and snap into my senses again.   FUCK THEM!


Side note:  I dislike doing continuations to a past entry because it’s hard to be in the same exact moment with the same amount of inspiration as I felt during which and when I first created the post.  If part 2 has disappointed you as it has me to a certain degree, the sentence before this one may have had a lot to do with it.  Thanks for reading. 🙂