You belong in poetry...

And you belong in fine things, but you belong to someone else.
You belong to no one town.

You alone are holy.
You alone are beauty.
And you alone are lonely now.

You really let it out
For just a moment and I could see how.
You’d only lay me down on sheets that tear and give out.
I’ve never known a love ‘til now.

"You see women...on TV, in the movies, and they get left or whatever.
You just wanna kick 'em, they're so whiny.
Look at me."

Is there any feeling more humiliating and useless than the feeling of being in love?
It's embarrassing, feeling dominated by something you have absolutely no control over. Or perhaps, more accurately, someone. You can't make someone love you, especially not when you aspire to be who you are and not what they want.
You can't make someone stick around, no matter how much you may want them to.
And even when someone's a reason to get up in the morning, they might not think of you all day.
People act like being in love is such a wonderful thing..."What grace have I to fall so in love?"
But it can be an agony growing inside you, taking on a life of its own, like a child in the womb.

Most girls I knew couldn't wait to fall in love, pretended it, even before it happened. They wrote names of boys on notebooks, dreamed of weddings, named imaginary children.
I never wanted that.
I never wanted to be the kind of person who felt possessed by thoughts of someone else, but that's what I've become. To think of one person every day, without fail, and several times a day, makes me feel pathetic.
To spend so much time thinking about something which was never truly mine, someone whose hand I've never even touched and in all likelihood, will never touch, seems absurd.
It seems I've lost someone who might have been a dream, but is there any loss greater than the loss of a dream?

I wonder about karma.
I tell people that no one's ever loved me, but I don't think that's true.
What I mean is that no one I've loved has ever loved me back and that's only mostly true.
What is true, is that I haven't treated the people who fall in love with me very well. In most cases, this was only because I didn't love them back and not loving them was enough to hurt them. But to be honest, when I was younger, I was far less tactful, and what is now my best attempt at a gentle disappointment was once purposeful destruction.
Maybe I deserve what I'm feeling now because of my past mistakes.

I spend my time thinking about someone who seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.
A ghost who now hates me or doesn't care for me, who not long ago seemed to admire me.

What does one do with all that pain?

I'm not to that point in my story.