A lonely dandelion

I want him back so badly. I promise not to show feelings. I promise I'll pretend to be okay. Just bring him back to me. Please. He made me feel safe. He never used me. He showed me affection. He's been there for me. He still is. He treated me right. He made me feel. But I ruined it all. I ruined it with my feelings. I shouldn't feel. I shouldn't have fallen in love with him. It would have been so much easier. I could listen to him talking for hours, while watching his lips move and form and excited smile while he talked about something he liked. His lips just fit mine. Our tongues moved simulatenously. We knew each other. We knew every spot of each other's bodies. We just fit. I know he felt it. He said he never felt anything so powerful before. But then why isnt he here? Cause he can't handle it. Cause he doesn't want to. Why isn't he trying harder for you? To see you? To express his feelings? Exactly. He is not ready. I think yo

I've been scared. When you leave I feel so small and melancholic instead of happy and excited as when you're near. Everytime you go, I get so afraid. My head keeps on playing different scenarios and the past keeps on repeating.  (I hope you don't read this, but at the same time I hope you do, so you'll know what is it, that keeps me up at night) I can understand why you're not in for a relationship. But baby this is getting serious. I'm falling for you. And I'd like you to be there for me, cause I don't wanna crash and collapse all over again. You see the truth is, my fear is pretty rational. I've been reliving a certain pattern again and again. When I like someone I want to give my all to them. And I do. I invest my time. I do everything I can to have them. Sometimes I get a little bit back. A little bit of attention. Of affection. Not much, just enough to get by. And I feel like a flower, that gets some raindrops to live, but not enough

I've always loved dandelions. Even before I could understand the meaning I now put to the word. First of all they are yellow. My favourite colour. Who would've thought. The all-in-black kid admiring the sunniest colour. The colour of positivity, joy, the colour of happy souls. Of hope. And the flower itself. The little bud that doesn't get noticed among the other rich blossoms with enticing smells. But the dandelion  stands there. Not aware of its beauty. Humble. An when it's dark it's still there, pushing his bulb high, trying to reach the sky. And when it gets cold, when all the other flowers bow their heads and disappear within the leaves, the dandelion stays. And as if it's not enough, the yellow head turns into a lovely clock. One that the children rely on for the time and one that makes even the adults laugh when the small seeds get stuck in their hair, whilst others find their way towards the sun. It stands for the freedom. But sometimes I fee