Suppression

It's when I lie to myself and to people about how I think I have feelings for someone. How I pretend that they're the kindest and the gentlest and the most thoughtful (they actually really are) and all that. And how it's that little perfect flaw in them that makes them so appealing.

But it's not all gold, because it isn't true. They could be kind and nice and all that, but it just gives me a rather convenient reason as to why they're just right to fall for. The fact that I've never let out who I've truly fallen for just shows how much I have to strive to keep this in; suppress it, and continue to pretend.

It is strange to say I cannot pin point where it all started but maybe it could have been the way you said my name. Maybe how sometimes you'd look at me in this way I can never describe. How sometimes we'd cross each other's paths and regard each other with a nonchalance so deep, it'd cut me through. Maybe that's how I knew- that it would hurt if you ignored me, as much as it would hurt if you didn't.

I saw how lonely you were but you were so caring in this tough love, cold manner of yours. How well you listened whenever I spoke, and the detached, yet strangely attentive way you heard me. You were nothing but a contradiction, unto yourself, and unto the effect you had on me.

I cannot pinpoint when I found myself unable to stop thinking about you. But I can remember how stark it felt. How it hurt so, thinking of your waxen complexion and your frowning mouth and your hard-to-read eyes hollowed me out with an aching desire and filled me up again, creating this awful cycle.

It confuses me so, in all honesty. You disarm me with your charm. It's evident, I fall for the jerks.