You call me that like it’s a bad thing…
But what does it mean, really?
According to the most reliable source on the internet… it’s a person who is in love with being in love.
If that’s the case, that’s me all the way.
When I’m not in love, it’s so hard to stay engaged.
See what I did there?
But the thing is, when you’re in love, nothing else matters…
that is, until it becomes a force of its own and leaves you shattered.
Love doesn’t always work out, which is pretty awful, but it’s just a part of life, right?
For me, I seem to fall hard and fast.
And you caught me, and it was wonderful, and a small part of me thought it’d last.
But I’ll admit, I was scared to say forever.
Maybe that makes me bad at being a hopeless romantic, huh?
Being afraid that thinking of “forever” is where things can go wrong…
Because everything that was so perfect about being in love is gone in an instant…
And now I’m stuck in limbo, caught between loving you,
and wanting to hate and be rid of you.
But I can’t, it’s impossible, because in loving you, I gave you a little part of me.
And I can’t hate me, because then how can I love anyone?
So I can’t hate you, even though I hate this and want to be done…
Being trapped in a cycle of falling in love and getting crushed because, well, maybe it will be different next time…
You call me a hopeless romantic,
and you say it like it’s a bad thing.
But I don’t know any different, and wasn’t that what you loved while you were with me?
So here I sit, and every little thing reminds me of you.
Here I sit, wondering when this phase will be through…
I mean look at me, you’ve forced me to turn to poetry!
But it’s okay, because for me to love you, like any of the other hopeless romantics,
It will be the greatest torture that we’ll ever feel…
***
I know I said I was taking a break to focus on other projects, this counts right? Of course! I’m trying to work a little more on original pieces, and lately poetry has been the way my soul wants to express feelings.
So here, I’m experimenting with some “found” poetry, kinda… I was inspired by and owe the formatted lines to an essay my friend wrote on hopeless romantics. Check out his journalistic work here.
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