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Writer's pictureannie wheat

a list



you showed me that I am ok.


You showed me a me I didn't know was there.


I like that you were the first person to see this part of me.


I like that you keep your heart private. You’re not boastful, and that makes me want to lift you up. So the world can see why anyone, everyone, would be in awe like me


I like that I remember smiling so much with you


You’re quiet and gentle and unassuming.


I am so sick of not knowing with you.


You share songs with me after truly listening to the lyrics. I like that. Everything is deliberate, but not pre-meditated or curated


I hate that I feel jealously instead of love first


I want to be happy for you


I can recognize it, but I can’t stop the feelings


I hate that you don’t experience what I’m experiencing. Then you might know what I’m talking about. But you wouldn’t be feeling what I’m feeling. So. Moot point.


I hate that when I’m with you, I feel like I can’t write about you


What if I’m just not happy enough. What about you. I dont think I could make you happy enough. And we just accept the un-happy.


Moments conjoin to experiences. That’s supposed to be a fun realization of this life, it’s all standing in front of us and waiting.


I feel like I’m always waiting with you.


Waiting for you.


I’m making and waiting and creating a new me. I’m excited. But I want you there. I want you, to see me, and then love me.


I want you to see yourself the way I do.


I want you to dance with me on hardwood floors and twirl me in between laughs


I want my hair to get caught on your watch


I feel alone all the time.


I am alone all the time. Aside the people.


I biked 100 miles today and no cared


Why would they! Biking is for the individual and that’s it.


So i guess, I biked a 100 miles and I didn’t care.


It’s very hard to care about much right now and even more hard to find a good ending for this list.



Perhaps a cowardice way to write, but “you” replaces quite a few names

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