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I Want Him... But I Want Myself More

He was just another boy until he wasn’t anymore.

By Jennifer LinPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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It first started out with quick stolen glances in the hallway. Unspoken secrets conversed silently between the two of us and an uncontrollable urge tugged me towards his direction.

It was always the little things that caught me off guard; the sweet and simple little things that made my fingers dig into my palms.

Shy curious gazes, innocent locking eyes, small shoulder brushes, and a few skipped heartbeats.

He was just another boy.

He was just another boy with dark hair and dark eyes.

Except he was a boy with dark hair that fell into his face just the way I liked it; and he was a boy who had sultry dark eyes that always became a little shy whenever they met mine.

He was just another boy until he wasn’t anymore.

He became a boy that made me wonder. A boy that made my stomach flip and a boy with a goofy smile.

The low rumble of his voice always made me bite my lip. The sound of it when he said my name was enough to make the hairs on my neck stand.

And when I learnt his name, I played with it over and over again on my tongue. It felt like a dangerous game; it made me feel almost dirty and I loved it. All of the rush and passion he brought filled my head and it was enough to distract me—enough to make me forget.

Maybe... Maybe if I dared to, I could have him?

The thought was exhilarating. We were constantly dancing dangerously close to one another, but never truly touching. I was on a high and my crushingly lonely soul wanted more. I wanted to fill the spiraling void in my chest with him. I wanted to feel his heat against the cold sheets of my bed and the intensity of his deep brown eyes scorching my body. I wanted him to electrify my fatigued soul and to caress it softly with his long stroking fingers. I have a hole in my chest and he could fill it for me. My mind riveted at the thought of that and I ached for that sensation. I ached for that spark and I ached to feel whole again.

But that is a feeling that others can only give to me temporarily.

In the end, only I have the ability to fill that hole myself.

I wish I could’ve lost myself in him. I wish I could've just let myself go... but I couldn’t. I couldn't because for me, that meant at the expense of losing myself. I simply could not afford that.

To heal, one must be vulnerable. But in order to be vulnerable with another person, there's one daunting step that one must learn to take, and I'm still learning how to take that step myself.

He was exquisitely breathtaking and oh, how I wanted him.

He made me feel that spark—that fire in life—and that was exactly the problem.

I cannot rely on another person to make me feel alive. That is something I must learn to give to myself.

Till this day, I still feel the hollowness of that hole inside of my chest and if I were to be honest, I don't really know how to fill it.

But one thing's for sure: I refuse to have a charismatic man with dark hair and dark eyes to fill that hole for me.

Because at the end of the day, I may want him...

But I want myself more.

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