about a boy

I miss the boy. More than I imagined possible. It doesn't even make sense in print. We were horrible for each other. We both deserve, and probably need, someone to balance our chaos. We were like Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, a mess left out for all the world to clean up, only without the luxury of being important to anyone other than each other. When I'm feeling logical, I can tell myself that there is simply no room for another volatile, explosive drug addict in my love life. I can remind myself of the fact that I am not and never will be strong enough for both of us. I can recall the amount of times that I lay awake, tears in my eyes, wondering where he was and why he wasn't answering his phone. I remember the sound of my heart breaking each time he decided that I was nothing to him. And I know that I'm crazy to want him back.
But that's the reasonable me. And with 27 other personalities fighting for dominance, how often is she around?

More often than not, the wishy-washy, lovestruck me is around, waiting for some sort of miracle to happen. Needing him to wake up one morning sober wanting me back in his life as badly as I want him back. Because that version of me can only remember his beauty. That stomach, those eyes, those lips...that hair - his everything. Has anyone ever kissed me so completely? Has anyone loved me so hard? Never. I remember making love to him on my mother's livingroom floor, desperate for each other, but never making any noise. I remember dancing with him in the park to no music. Crying in his arms because there were no words to describe exactly how I was feeling in that particular moment. 100 reasons to love me. #14 because your eyes say more than you ever will #76 because your honesty disarms me #29 because you know how to kiss me like you mean it #1 because you're you. A girl with blood running through her veins can't dismiss that. Or maybe I'm unique. I remember experiencing highs with him like I've never experienced before. That shouldn't be a good thing, I know. Talking until 6 am. Sugar-free blueberry pancakes. The way he looked in his boxers. His jealousy that did to me what roses do to girls with sense. I'll say it, when he was good, he was my version of perfect. And when he was bad, I loved him still.

I crave this boy like tequila sours on a warm night. I miss the way that I could take him in and know that it was safe to shut out the rest of the world. I miss constantly wanting him to be inside of me. The drama that surrounded him didn't seem to matter. And who cares if he was never fully mine at any given time? I felt blessed to know him, touched by his presence, amazed by his imperfect perfection. Girls calling me in tears with demands only excited me and the state of dementia and pain that I encased myself in while he was in my life felt like home. Yes, it is completely possible to want to live and die for the same person.

I don't know why I want this back. Maybe I am crazy. Or maybe I'm just lonely. In either case, I feel like a huge part of my life has ceased to exist and the remaining parts don't matter without it. I just need him to come back and kiss me in that way and touch me in that place and feed whatever it is in me that makes me so insane for him. I'm a mess without him. When exactly did I lose my mind?

better question: how do i hold up my walls of resistance the next time he calls when what i really want to do is welcome him home?