HPlover's blog

I feel worthless. Unimportant. Not needed, not wanted. 
Inferior.
I feel infinity and forever. Read more »

It's unassuming. Standard even. Catchy font for the title (all in caps), bright blue cover (designed to catch the eye), reviews by other authors scrawled across the front advertising its "staccato bursts of humour and tragedy" (credited to Jodi Picoult). The only thing out of the ordinary about this particular copy is the yellow sticker crookedly sticking to the front advertising "SIGNED COPY". Which, by itself, is distinctly special (This Reader has never had an autograph of a famous person before). It was a book that This Reader had shown a brief interest in, and she thought that her parents would not take heed. And yet, there it was, under the black and white newspaper that her parents use as wrapping for gifts.  Read more »

I can’t believe we’ve been put in this position.

You and me.

You’re all I ever wanted. I’ve chased after you for FOUR YEARS. I’ve wasted countless hours crying over you, wondering, wishing, HOPING for you. I guess it was all a waste.

I guess it was to be expected. She’s a flirt. And any guy can fall into her trap. I just thought you’d be smart enough to see past her false, phony exterior. Read more »

He notices everything about her. But he can’t express it. He fears she’ll hear him whisper something, something he shouldn’t know, and she’ll flee.

And so he keeps his observations in his heart.

He watches her one day at rehearsal, when she takes off her powder blue cardigan and neatly folds it on her backpack. He sees the small rough red patch of skin in the space where her arm meets her shoulder, hidden underneath a miniscule band-aid, and he wonders what the cracked, raw skin would feel like under his thumb. And she sees him staring at her with glazed eyes, and shyly shifts the strap of her tank top to cover the blemish.

He knows her middle name. Her favorite food, favorite color, favorite song. He hears her humming and sighing and singing and laughing in his waking moments and in his sleep. She invades his dreams, both day and otherwise. But he has no control over it. He has never had control over anything to do with her.

He passes her one day in the hallway, conversing with her friend, the boy with the same name as he. And a twinge of jealousy strikes beneath his ribs, in the general vicinity of his heart. And he knows then that the people who say you feel with your brain, not your heart, are dirty stinking liars. Read more »

One time you put your arm around me, and it was one of the single best experiences of my life.

There aren’t any words I know to portray the way your arm felt on me, your long fingers wrapping around my shoulder and holding on for dear life. Your shoulder was level with my ear, and it was almost painful to suppress the overwhelming urge to put my head on your shoulder. But I consoled myself. All in due time, was the mantra running through my head.
Read more »

I'm not girly
I wear jeans and jumpers
Every day
That's why it's so
Shocking when I say
My biggest, most fervent wish
Is to put on

A lacy
Silky
Can't-take-your-hands-off-of-it
Dress
And have my

Hair all done up
Framing my

Face with the barest touch of
Makeup
(I hate makeup)
And then I want

Him
To knock on my door
In a sharp black blazer
With a

Corsage in hand
And I would take his

Hand and bring him
Downstairs where
My friends would be waiting
With their dates and my

Mom would be there
Camera at the ready
And there would be pictures of
Me giggling and praising the

Inventor of magnetic boutonnieres
And he would slip the corsage on my

Wrist and we'd stand
Side by side in front of my stone
Fireplace, his

Arm around my
Waist and my
Head on his
Shoulder and then the

Shutter would snap
On the camera
And that

Moment of immense
Happiness would be
Frozen in time

But my wishes never amount to
Anything
Yet, I still find myself
Yearning for that one night to feel

Pretty

i'm made of ice
i'm ready to shatter Read more »

“Hello”, he said. “Can we sit here?”

And she frowned because she was sitting alone, and she didn’t like being a pity case. But he sat down with the other boy and they didn’t go away, so she had to put her book away and talk to him and then they were friends. Read more »

Turns out people have poor judgement.
They were
SO SURE
he was
MADLY
in love with me.
But after a rather
HEARTBREAKING
conversation,
Late at night
He felt the need to
CONFESS.
"I like
HER
but who do
YOU
like?"
And so I shoved the
DESPAIR
deep into my gut
Like I'm so used to.
And said
goodnight.

because i guess

the closest we'll ever get

to swapping spit 

is sharing

a saxophone mouthpiece

i may....possibly....be addicted to how i met your mother.

but it's not just that. i am literally a pathetic human being.

it's the character. ted mosby. he IS my dream guy. he's smart, funny, extremely awkward, charming, a huge romantic, and rather good looking. but let's be honest. i'm not going to find someone like him. i'm wasting my time watching this inane, ridiculous (hilarious) show, just to watch this character. i want someone like that. i want a boy to look at me and smile. to know me inside and out, all my quirks and fears. to cry when i cry, to laugh when i laugh. to shut me up with a kiss when we fight or i just ramble on and talk too much about nothing in particular that he probably doesn't even care about in the first place so why is he even listening to me but that's why he shuts me up by kissing me because he doesn't want to seem rude or inattentive to what i have to say so it's the only way he can think of that will make sense and make us both happy. to not be afraid to spill his guts. to tell me his feelings about something. to make the first move. but i guess i'll just have to watch the 22 minute episodes filled with juvenile (hilarious) jokes and catchy phrases (also known as 'catchphrases') to see a guy who isn't afraid to be a hopeless romantic for some girl. i hope i'm lucky enough to find my ted mosby someday.

i mean, come on! is it too much to ask a guy to steal you a blue smurf penis?!

i need those stupid pictures.

the crappy ones taken

by girls who point cameras from walmart and say 

"cheeeeeeese!"

with way too many syllables.

the bad one of us 

hooking arms while playing elbow tag

(the one where you said it described our relationship perfectly.

you ignoring me.

and me trying too hard)

and the one of me

sitting in front of you

your large hands braiding my wild reddish hair

as we glow orange from the bonfire

or me and you and our other friend

while the two of you tower over me

and i pout in the middle

but mostly

i need the picture of the two of us

sitting side by side near the bonfire

smiling and laughing

my head nearly touching your shoulder

and your hand gripping my knee

a bright blanket thrown over the two of us

because the pictures in my head don't suffice.

i need proof.

and so i sit on facebook at 1:26 AM

waiting for proof.

my wrist throbs 

with unshed emotion

it was the closest i've ever been

i can still feel the mark of the scissors

where it was on my veins

but i stopped 

right before it broke through

because i'm not the kind of girl

i'm terrified of blood

comepared to others

i'm not that damaged

i can handle the emotional pain

so i held the awful orange scissors in my hands

and i cried

my best friend hates me

he'd rather hang out with other people

he doesn't care for me anymore

so i went and got a band aid from the cupboard Read more »

Red and white

Your smooth button-down

Khaki and black khaki and black

Stitches on the pockets of your “asymmetrical” pants

Black and white

Large scuffed sneakers

Blue and backless

My dress. Twirling as your eyes shyly sweep my bare skin

Cold and warm. Small and large.

My hand in yours.

A quick laugh. An affirmation

The two of us walking to the pool

Tick tock tick tock Read more »

Poems hide

in the center of small dew drops

just waiting for someone to

set them free

when someone does

they float

looking for new and

better places to hide

like

under colorful posters,

on rims of drinking glasses

on blades of grass

hidden in the bottom of your sock

But

poems are sometimes invisible

you have to see them to believe them

This Is Just to Say

I just used the

pencils from

our

Mt. Rushmore trip which

You were probably

going to use

tomorrow on the

first day of school

The four stone heads

danced at me

while I

wrote with those pencils

Forgive me

I had to keep

writing with them

they work magic

Oh you want the

magic pencils?

They are in the trash

worked down to their

magic stubs

Blue Future

The blue cloudless sky

Blends in with a perfect sea

Absent horizon

Tree Girl

The lanky green hair

Sits on the skinny brown neck

A big willow tree

Endless Technology

An electric box

Next to an electric box

A computer lab

Tall skinny, skinny body

Wavy brown locks across pale, slightly freckled forehead

Long skinny fingers

Match up to mine

As I giggle and shy away from physical contact

Sitting next to him at school assemblies

The beaten up red chairs in close proximity

His denim clad knee knocking against mine

As my elbow on the arm rest

Daringly moves closer to his

And him leaning in

Ever so slightly

Millimeter by Millimeter

An

'I-hope-she-doesn't-notice-this' lean

When I buttoned up the top of his shirt

Smoothing my hands over the purple and white squares on his shoulders

And his dark green, solemn eyes met mine

And I giggled and scurried off

Afraid.

There's three boys.

I know

That sounds like a lot

I know

I sound crazy

I know

That's completely unreasonable

But I have a valid explanation

Just listen

Just hear me out

Boy number one

Let's call him...

"Josh"

You know that one boy

That one who you'll like forever

That's "Josh"

But he's just one boy

Oh, we're just getting started

Boy number two

Let's call him...

"Darren" 

You know that boy

The one who you pick out of the crowd

Maybe unconsciously saying to yourself

That's the one. I'll like him

That's "Darren" 

And that's two boys

We're almost there

Bear with me

Boy number three...

Let's call him...

"Daniel"

You know that boy

Who creeps up on you?

You're friends

Then suddenly

You're jealous of her

His 'date' for the dance

And you realize

Platonic friendships aren't your strong suit

And that's a wrap.

  Read more »

  Read more »

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Sometimes I forget you have a girlfriend

It's funny 

When we talk

And you tease

And I giggle

And you smile

And I know it's all wrong

But those few hours

Every week

When we make eye contact

And your blue eyes sparkle

And my heart backflips

And you make a joke

That only we can understand

And the others look at us

Then at each other

And shrug

Because they can't comprehend Read more »

Excitement

Suspicion

Consoled

Ecstatic

Planning

Convincing

Stomach

Dropping

When

He

Tells

You

He's

Lying

I

Hate

You

Rain

On

The

Roof

Echoes

My

Tears

When

He

Leaves

Without

Saying

I

Love

You

No words.

Express how I feel Read more »

Emotions

Flooding through me Read more »

I need to write

Write down what happened today Read more »

It hurts

It hurts so much
Read more »

That night

Last night Read more »

It’s just…last year, you were my best friend. Now you’re barely my friend

Really? I consider you one of my best friends still.

But why? We’ve talked…twice this year. If that. Read more »