You told me there was a hotel in Texas I could hide my bald spot in but I couldn’t wrap
My sombrero around it so I left El Paso on a Greyhound bus and got married to a Jesus
Freak girl in Los Vegas, I told her it was(more) ordained by God and we ate greasy French fries
Together late at night with ketchup and it was good. For awhile.
You told me I was wrong. You presented me with theories as if they were facts and gave little to no credit to the information that I used to prove my point was valid. I didn't want you to change your mind, I just wanted you to stop trying(more) to alter mine.
But you pushed and you shoved. You backed me into a corner and jabbed me until your stubborn opinions were storm clouds in my sky. For my own fair weather I relented. I gave in and took that last step back, begging it to end.
At first, it worked. You were happy being right and getting your way. I was careful to walk that line between hoop jumper (who would follow each statement like a command) and listener (who had opinions, no matter how little they mattered). I followed each contradiction carefully, working to figure out which side you would feel at any given moment. What your reaction might be, how far I should push, where the button was and how far away was just right to not push it.
But the white flag doesn't satisfy you anymore. There's something deeper to your hunger and I cannot see where it ends. What do you want from me? You don't want who I am, and you don't want what I became for you. There's no escape, no winning, no answers.
You told me you would be happy as long as I was happy.
I told myself I would be content if you could be happy.
I suppose neither of us will be satisfied now. (less)
You told me that things would be different now. That everything I knew and learned was over. You told me it was time to let go and move on. This would be a beginning.
Things don't happen so simply. It doesn't go over that smoothly. Some things are like a haun(more)ting guise that follows the wearer around much longer than it's worn. Its presence is known and cut so deep, that the scar shows for years, sometimes the rest of your life.
You told me I could be who I wanted to be, that I could do anything I wanted now. Just like the broken promises before, you told me things were different now, people were different, my life was different.
But the reality is sometimes a mental adaptation won't allow for this sort of renaissance. So I have a hard time blaming you when I get stuck in who I was. I forgive you for that.
I can look past who is the bad guy and who is the victim, things are never really that simple, anyway.
Well, who the hell can see forever.
You told me things were different. That I could let go.
You told me you loved me.(less)
The boy sat there leaning forwards against the balcony. The boy could feel the cool night breeze caress his face and flows through his golden hair as he continues to lean forward over the balcony. A smile appears across his face as he overlooks the city skyline.
(more) "You told me you'd be here." A faint voice called out from inside.
The boy turns around to see a figure appear from the shadows of the apartment. It was another boy, who silver grey hair and wore a simple jacket and blue jeans.
The boy with the silver hair looks over at the other boy with the golden hair who had a surprised look drawn on his face.
"You told me you'd be here if I ever wanted to apologize. So that is why I'm here." the boy with the silver hair muttered.
The golden haired boy did not know how to respond. He was dumbfounded that this kid would apologize for it was not in his nature.
The golden haired boy slowly walks over to the boy with the silver hair grabbing him in his arms holding him tightly as if the silver haired boy would float away if he'd let go.
"I'm glad you came. I was feeling so alone without you. I felt as if I lost the one thing I cannot live without." The boy with the golden hair cried out.
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry, I tried to change who I was on the outside, while trying to hide you away." The boy with the silver haired replied.
The golden haired boy lets go and looks directly into the Silver haired boy's eyes. "Your my body and I'm your soul. You can't change who I am, and I can't change who you are."
I wrote a BEAUTIFUL story and my internet failed and the whole thing was deleted. Damn it to heck. All of it. YOU TOLD ME MY WORDS WOULD BE PUBLISHED. YOU TOLD ME THIS LAPTOP WOULD NOT HAVE PROBLEMS WITH INTERNET CONNECTION. Liars.