The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
This is a story formed on my experiences with love. Well, my experience.
I hope you enjoy.
I only loosely regards the titl, or whatever, but, still
_______
Oh, you, you're green. You don't know what love means.
People don't understand what it's like to be in love. Teenagers over use it. 'I love so and so'. Tell me, little girl, do you spend hours at a time, just thinking about what you're going to say your beloved the next time you see them? Do you spend nights analysing the way she said 'goodbye' to you, and how it could show her general disgust for you? Do you wake up in the morning to the fresh image of your love in your mind, and not in a sexual manner, whatsoever? Or do you just like his Nike TNs, and the fact he's popular. I feel so beyond my time, which is a feeling that many, many teenagers get, I know. They feel out of place, like they belong somewhere else. But I'm a realist. I know I'm not mentally mature to the age of a 20 year old, or whatever, or that I have the sense of someone twice my age. I just want people my age to act their age, and not offer their virginity to the first fool in a plastic nike hat who passes them buy who gives them a cheeky wink. You think you're alone. You think that nobody is out there for you, and that nobody wants to ever be close to you
This is our last goodbye, must I dream and always see your face?
Then you find her. The girl you've been looking for. The girl who can look past the slightly rough exterior. The Girl who doesn't care about how many mates you have, or if you go out on a Saturday night. And she likes you. She really likes you. You hop down the road to meet her. She tells you that she's in love with you. Your heart misses a minutes worth of beats. Breathlessly replying 'I love you too'. A week later, and it's over. And she's on her way to France for holiday as you spend your 6 week summer holiday trying to contemplate what on earth you've done wrong. Welcome to my mind last year. Last summer. Last painful, harrowing summer. 6 weeks of laying in bed, close to tears, with music as my only friend. Love isn't glorious. Love is not a victory march. Love is pain. Love is feeling empty inside. That's love. it's not something that pop songstress pop their bodies to, and nothing that rappers feed to you through MTV Base. Love is often called an Eternal Flame. It's not a flame. It's an inferno. An inferno that will burn your insides until there is nothing left but the ash of bitterness and self hatred for you to dwell over. Time is a healer. Time is a slow and laborous healer. And it leaves deep, emotional, cutting scars. Scars that will open under any sign of pressure, leaving painful memories to pour from within
I don't believe in a love anymore, It's all inside.
Maybe it's all me being melodramatic. I'm a teenage boy, desperate for acceptance and for love. I could've easily have been reading to deep into it all. The way she squeezed my hand, the way she's talk to me for hours on end about her new shoes, and would constantly want to see me and such. Maybe she was using me? Maybe she only wanted me to attract another man? Could I just be a tool in her sinister game? It causes you to question your very self, everything you've ever believed to be true, and everything about you. It makes you want to scream like you're in excruciating pain, 24 hours a day. The thought of her smile can be enough to ruin up a whole day, if you're in the wrong mood. I wrote letters to her in my mind. Letters detailing my every last feeling. It always happens just before I fall asleep, and my mind fills with ways I can get her back, and make her feel for me again. By the morning, they're gone, like her. She's gone and she's never coming back. I have to accept that. I have to remember that every morning I wake up with another fresh dream of us getting back together on my mind. My love will have to be packed, stored, and kept with all my other feelings. Gathering dust until, one day, hopefully, I can take it from deep inside my heart, dust it down and put it back into use. Until that day, and until she returns, the inferno will burn on inside of me.
I hope you enjoy.
I only loosely regards the titl, or whatever, but, still
_______
Oh, you, you're green. You don't know what love means.
People don't understand what it's like to be in love. Teenagers over use it. 'I love so and so'. Tell me, little girl, do you spend hours at a time, just thinking about what you're going to say your beloved the next time you see them? Do you spend nights analysing the way she said 'goodbye' to you, and how it could show her general disgust for you? Do you wake up in the morning to the fresh image of your love in your mind, and not in a sexual manner, whatsoever? Or do you just like his Nike TNs, and the fact he's popular. I feel so beyond my time, which is a feeling that many, many teenagers get, I know. They feel out of place, like they belong somewhere else. But I'm a realist. I know I'm not mentally mature to the age of a 20 year old, or whatever, or that I have the sense of someone twice my age. I just want people my age to act their age, and not offer their virginity to the first fool in a plastic nike hat who passes them buy who gives them a cheeky wink. You think you're alone. You think that nobody is out there for you, and that nobody wants to ever be close to you
This is our last goodbye, must I dream and always see your face?
Then you find her. The girl you've been looking for. The girl who can look past the slightly rough exterior. The Girl who doesn't care about how many mates you have, or if you go out on a Saturday night. And she likes you. She really likes you. You hop down the road to meet her. She tells you that she's in love with you. Your heart misses a minutes worth of beats. Breathlessly replying 'I love you too'. A week later, and it's over. And she's on her way to France for holiday as you spend your 6 week summer holiday trying to contemplate what on earth you've done wrong. Welcome to my mind last year. Last summer. Last painful, harrowing summer. 6 weeks of laying in bed, close to tears, with music as my only friend. Love isn't glorious. Love is not a victory march. Love is pain. Love is feeling empty inside. That's love. it's not something that pop songstress pop their bodies to, and nothing that rappers feed to you through MTV Base. Love is often called an Eternal Flame. It's not a flame. It's an inferno. An inferno that will burn your insides until there is nothing left but the ash of bitterness and self hatred for you to dwell over. Time is a healer. Time is a slow and laborous healer. And it leaves deep, emotional, cutting scars. Scars that will open under any sign of pressure, leaving painful memories to pour from within
I don't believe in a love anymore, It's all inside.
Maybe it's all me being melodramatic. I'm a teenage boy, desperate for acceptance and for love. I could've easily have been reading to deep into it all. The way she squeezed my hand, the way she's talk to me for hours on end about her new shoes, and would constantly want to see me and such. Maybe she was using me? Maybe she only wanted me to attract another man? Could I just be a tool in her sinister game? It causes you to question your very self, everything you've ever believed to be true, and everything about you. It makes you want to scream like you're in excruciating pain, 24 hours a day. The thought of her smile can be enough to ruin up a whole day, if you're in the wrong mood. I wrote letters to her in my mind. Letters detailing my every last feeling. It always happens just before I fall asleep, and my mind fills with ways I can get her back, and make her feel for me again. By the morning, they're gone, like her. She's gone and she's never coming back. I have to accept that. I have to remember that every morning I wake up with another fresh dream of us getting back together on my mind. My love will have to be packed, stored, and kept with all my other feelings. Gathering dust until, one day, hopefully, I can take it from deep inside my heart, dust it down and put it back into use. Until that day, and until she returns, the inferno will burn on inside of me.
Page:
I too like to write emotively, but unlike you I write about things that haven't happened to me, still applying emotions I've encountered in my life, and there are a lot of them.
I can never feel sincer or close to my work if I've not experienced or felt anything to do with the subject matter. That's a serious block of mine.
Ah, real emotion.
Wonderfully expressed.
Wonderfully expressed.
FFF, I'm not sure if that was sarcasm or not.
Which bit? None of it was.
Danke. It's just unusual for a FFF post without sarcasm.
Sorry. I'll try harder in future.
Because I long to live up to your expectations.
Better?
Because I long to live up to your expectations.
Better?
Good.
Just try to keep it that way, slave.
Just try to keep it that way, slave.
:-)
I've been there.
I didn't even get as far as you did...
Infact it might've all worked out beautifully if I hadn't blown it all down to shyness, nerves and (looking back) complete confusion and paranioa! :-D
I sort of managed to tell her about 3 months too late...
I was sort of surprised because when I told her and got a "no" (in the nicest way possible, and she was with someone at the time, but at the end of the day I don't think she'd felt that way anysway...) I sort of felt relieved...
You know, having let it out.
And then the depression sank in a few days later.
All the dreams and whatnot, all gone for nothing.
But yeah, it was a long time ago and I'm over it, properly.
As in I have no regrets whatsoever.
It wasn't quick.
First 3 months were in and out of depression, mostly depression.
After that a little less depression, and less (mostly to just not thinking about it) until one day, about a year later, I looked back and shrugged.
No regrets, no more "as if! if only!" dreams, no more "what if"'s or "maybe one day"'s.
What happened, happened.
Yeah it destroyed me, but it also made me.
It had to happen that way for me to be me, the me I am now.
See? :-)
It's life.
So, how does everyone relate to that?
I've been there.
I didn't even get as far as you did...
Infact it might've all worked out beautifully if I hadn't blown it all down to shyness, nerves and (looking back) complete confusion and paranioa! :-D
I sort of managed to tell her about 3 months too late...
I was sort of surprised because when I told her and got a "no" (in the nicest way possible, and she was with someone at the time, but at the end of the day I don't think she'd felt that way anysway...) I sort of felt relieved...
You know, having let it out.
And then the depression sank in a few days later.
All the dreams and whatnot, all gone for nothing.
But yeah, it was a long time ago and I'm over it, properly.
As in I have no regrets whatsoever.
It wasn't quick.
First 3 months were in and out of depression, mostly depression.
After that a little less depression, and less (mostly to just not thinking about it) until one day, about a year later, I looked back and shrugged.
No regrets, no more "as if! if only!" dreams, no more "what if"'s or "maybe one day"'s.
What happened, happened.
Yeah it destroyed me, but it also made me.
It had to happen that way for me to be me, the me I am now.
See? :-)
It's life.
So, how does everyone relate to that?
Nice. I enjoyed that. Different and nice.
:-)
:-)
Page: