My Stepbrother.

5:00am

Lol, I wrote this at 3am which probably explains to why it is soooo deep

5:00 am. I sit alone. Alone in the room that I have grown accustomed to over the years gradually feeling myself drown while watching everyone else swims around me. I've felt like this before, surrounded by so many people yet never more alone, never more empty. This feeling that I hold is so indescribable, I know I'm loved, my mum would do anything for me but why do I feel so unloved, like where I currently am is where I don't belong. Maybe that's the question I should be asking 'where do I belong?' Where in the world is my place to fit in? Most kids at age 18 know where their heading, lawyers, chemists, personal trainers. I don't even know what tomorrow holds for me.

My dad always said that I was I thinker, I think far too much about questions that can never be answered. I'm not happy with a simple explanation, I constantly want to know more, to questions that are impossible to answer. What happens when we die? I mean, I know some individuals have amazing opinions on what happens I'd love to believe my dad is somewhere looking down on me, or maybe he's looking up or maybe he's by my side (who really knows!) but I need cold hard truth. I can't be the only one that finds it incredibly strange that an individual's heart stops beating and then they're 'gone', The definition of 'gone' is 'No longer present; departed' so technically they aren't gone, because their body is still here. Maybe our bodies are just shells that hold 'us', like robots hold memory cards and batteries. When our batteries run out our memory cards are still portable so maybe we never actually 'die', just escape from our shell.

The question I ponder about today is where do I actually belong? What is my purpose? What can I give? And I finally have an answer for myself which is nowhere and nothing. But maybe the answer isn't as simple as that. What if the answer is constantly changing, if you had asked me three days ago I would have said I belong with Michael, Michael is my purpose and I'd give the world for him to know it. Now I'm undecided. What if I make it my choice to choose, maybe if I stop moping about, find something to chase then with it will come a sense of belonging.

I want nothing more than to chase Michael though.

I never knew love had a sound until I heard Michael's laugh. He is the only one who can make my heart beat faster than light and stop simultaneously. The only one who can make me smile in times of sadness. The only one who can make me uncontrollably angry, and completely in love. The only time I didn't feel dead was when I was kissing him. The high I got from him was better than any drug I've ever tried. I should have known then that I would have ended with a low.

I promised myself I would never fall in love but as soon as it hit April the 15th, 3 in the afternoon, I began laughing way too hard and I felt happy for the first time in a long time.

I was the book Michael opened, but never bothered to read.

He made me feel like the only girl in the world. Had me under his spell before I knew it. He knew all the right words, said the sweetest things, made me believe that I was beautiful - perfect. When I saw him cry my heart broke, I held him, tried anything to make him whole, anything to prove my love for him, no matter how many people tried to warn me, and tell me that he was no good. I was willing to leave everyone and anyone behind, giving him the power to take my heart and shatter it into a million pieces, just for those three seconds of being held by him. Just for the feeling of his skin against mine, for the galaxies I felt in my stomach when our lips touch.

His lips tasted like cigarettes because he said on his way home from school he smokes. And God I hated the taste but he made me happy, so I put up with it. Whenever he told me 'You're beautiful' my stomach fluttered. And I fell harder and harder every time spent together.

I convinced myself it was real. That the two of us were real. And everything he said he meant. That I just had to try and prove how much I wanted him. But when he walked into the kitchen with a hickey on his neck, I couldn't help but ask myself if I gave him that one and it wasnt until then I realised he only misses my voice when nobody else is calling.

Now I realise and understand, why hurricanes are named after people because he is a raging storm, That came in and swept away my brain. But to lay next to him feels like cloudless skies, He's that gentle summer breeze, heating the pavement with his warmth. So I let him in of course, and partly cloudy I became. Until there was no sun anymore, and then there was only clouds and heavy rain. Hurricane is not a big enough word to describe the way he hit. He fled through me veins, intoxicated my mind, left a mess, and then moved to destroy the next.

It's not until you're homesick for arms that don't want to hold you that you realise that you go to extreme lengths to believe the best about someone you truly love.

It's surprises me how infatuated I was with him, I completely ignore how horribly he treated me, how I gave him everything I had, And he half heartedly offered me what was left of his 'damaged' heart. And even though he tore me apart, I can't but help to ache for his love. I can't help but think 'God I wanna be loved by him', but I mean nothing to him, but to me, he means the world and now I can't help but think, He's just a stranger with prints of my lips all over his body.

I haven't spoken to him for days, but not a second has gone past when I don't think 'I should have never told him how I felt' because even though he marked his territory all over my neck, and in spite the fact we watched titanic and the song I sang was titled 'my heart will go on'. It won't. Because I am not his and he is not mine.

Because when he turned around with another girl under his arm, just a few days after its was called quits, and looked me dead in the eye without saying anything, Not even 'hi'. It was as if our time spent together, the time I spent loving him, wasn't important, As if it never happened. And it's not my fault I hope he chokes on every lie he told. It's not my fault for thinking that this time would be different, For spending restless nights dreaming of his hands intertwining with mine. The smell of his cologne as he embraces me. It's not my fault for think that I could save him, When he just didn't care enough to be saved, He's the only one who can save himself.

I've always preferred the rainfall over sunshine, maybe that explains why I chose him over everybody else. Even though I'm choking on his absence, it's better than chewing on his lies.