May 6, 2007 – Sunday
So I guess that was the end of it, huh?
Current mood: 
rejected
Category: Romance and Relationships
Thanks. Twice thanks. Three times thanks. You beat the better and became the best. You fought the army and became the one. You ran me over with your perfectness. You had me in those kisses in the cheek, remember? You were the one, the only one… the one I wanted, the one I truly need. The one that just grabbed into my heart, put a sticker on it that says “HE’S MINE” with a little figurine of a resting room guy. Yes, that pink sticker you put on me on Valentine’s. You grabbed me, pulled me, pushed me, (wo)man-handled me, jumped on me, crashed onto me… till you killed me… with your love and laughter… man, I love the way you killed me. It just seemed like it was meant to be. It’s always been like we were meant for each other. You, of all people, should know that. I don’t know why you just don’t believe in yourself! You have made me cry of joy… a feat rarely accomplished. The way you touched my hands, what you said when you grabbed onto them, when you caressed them the way only you know how to do, the way it just felt right whenever we held hands, how they fit together, they were meant to be… like a CD and it’s case, like a water bottle and it’s cap, like a key to it’s keyhole, like peanut butter to it’s jelly, like a baby bird and it’s egg. You brought me to my senses… all of them! You gave me the best times of my life, offered me a continuation to it and, as if it could be done, also offered the key to my happiness. What? Key? No. You gave me a key chain, with a couple of keys, all different yet all for the same keyhole… you gave me the door, you gave me the nuts and bolts to put it up, you gave me the paint, the varnish, you gave me the keyhole itself, you helped me assemble the door, make it look good, put on the locks and all that’s needed to maintain the door in tip-top shape, you personally handed me the keys (I think you even put an alarm for the keys, so if I ever lost them I’d know where to find them). But, dammit… you forgot to open the door. And you want to leave me here, as I am? You don’t want to teach me how to open the door, you don’t want to let me be there for you the next time you get near the door so I can open it for you. You say you are a beautiful self-built Build-A-Bear Workshop teddy bear that needs a lot of attention and I understand that. But you also say that there was in my past a couple of Disney plush dolls that were all the same. You say Goofy, Donald, and Mickie were the same, yet you don’t know why you say that… or maybe you do… but you just don’t say why. Since you know you don’t know you just fight with me. You say that I have always wanted the same kind of plush dolls, that I don’t ever want to change those. Yes, they might have been the same company that made these three dolls but they are not the same, at all. One is a dog, one is a duck, and one is a mouse. The dog and the mouse have some skin of the same color and both have the hair, which the duck doesn’t have. Try and take a look at these three plush dolls, put them side-by-side, see what you find in them that is, to you, “the same”. What do you see there? Just three dolls, all looking at you, smiling. They’re always the kind of dolls you like to have for a few years but then you stop. You have the fondest memories of them, but just don’t want to continue. Now look at yourself. Position yourself in front of a mirror. What do you see? What you’re most probably looking at is a stunning one-off teddy bear. All of the details in it have been hand-picked. Always going for the perfect taste (also, do remember that you were self-built, so the perfect taste here is your own taste!). Hundreds of millions of options, only one final version. You. Stunning you. Wonderful you. The you that stays there forever. Just look at you. You’re the kind of teddy bear that you want. You are the one that’s there. You’re that one perfect bear. I like this bear that you are. If I can say so, I want to say that I want it for me, for all my life. Do you see why? I do. You’re a one-off, self-built, hand-picked, endless-battery-powered, laugh-inducing, fun-having, love-filled, butterfly-making, smile-creating, lean, mean, fight-reducing, grilling… uh, wait… where was I? oh yes… smile-creating, perfection-defining love bear! But… you just want to go by… you want to let go of me. You want to hurt the creation of that one-off teddy bear (that may once rule the world, you know) by not wanting to have a kid to enjoy the wonders of a teddy bear. By kid, of course, I mean this kid. This kid right here wants to have you, hold you, squeeze you, love you forever. This kid right here wants you to be with him forever, for all time to come, to be with in all adventures, to help through your own torments, to stitch you when you cut yourself so that your cotton stuffing won’t come out, to be your partner-in-crime whenever you want to commit one (stealing cookies is always fun!), to be with you whenever you need… to [Edit | love and live]-> have and hold till death do us part.
Finis.
