I am not a romantic

I don’t want “adventure”

I don’t want to be in love

I don’t want to be loved

I don’t want to sit and drink coffee and discuss art and music

I don’t want to be swept off my feet

I don’t want a knight in shining armor

A fairytale romance

A kiss in the pouring rain

I don’t want to hear you calling me beautiful 

Theres no words to explain this memory

It can’t be relived with anyone else 

This is one memory I want to keep to myself

And never share

So, I kissed her. And she kissed me back. And we lay down on the floor and kept kissing. And it was soft. And we made quiet noises. And kept silent. And still. We went over to the bed and lay down on all the things that weren’t put in suitcases. And we touched each other from the waist up over our clothes. And then under our clothes. And then without clothes. And it was so beautiful. She was so beautiful. 

You don’t know me at all.

You couldn’t name any of my favorites

or memories

or stories

You know what you want to know about me

Making up a fairytale to create who you want

I’m merely a gateway to a fantasy

A doll, really

Dress me up, pull my string

I’ll say whatever you want me to say

Play with me and I’ll be yours.

I’m not ugly, but I can’t be pretty

I’m smart, but I’m not getting smarter

I’m good, but not good enough

I’m talented, but not like you

I’m not bad, but I won’t get any better

I’m okay, and that’s it.

If I can’t have what I want, neither can you

I hate you for what you did to me,

yet I did the same to another

Jane says 
I’ve never been in love
I don’t know what it is 
Only knows if someone wants her
I want them if they want me
I only know they want me

“I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.” -John Green, Looking for Alaska