Firefly

Its just that I’ve been thinking and I’ve come to realize that life isn’t just made up of people and places. We have our own little obsessions, hobbies, and secrets. And now with me being obsessed with One Direction, I wonder why exactly we’re trained to think like this. In reality I don’t want to want to know everything there is to know about 1D. Maybe its the media or the people who raised us. But truthfully, I think these things that we obsess over, are things we want more than anything. I don’t want Harry Styles to fall in love with me, I want anyone to fall in love with me, and maybe I’m just too scared to admit that. So I surround myself with these beautiful men who are everybody’s dream boyfriends and I tell myself, “That’s what I want, I want him.” But really I don’t; I want someone real. Someone I can get to know, someone I can grow old with or stay young with. I want someone who I can relate to and tell all my secrets to. I want someone to kiss and hug and tell I love you to. So maybe these obsessions are just all my expectations, piled into one thing. Maybe these secrets that I keep to myself are secrets because I don’t really know if anyone can understand. I am like a firefly in a jar trying to fly through the little holes poked in the top. I’m just the staple in the paper that holds everything together, that no one pays attention to, while they read the words that mask the truth. I’m the stitches in the quilt, holding the hushed words and the hurt that has bubbled up but never boiled over. And maybe I think Harry Styles is attractive, but doesn’t everyone? Girls all over the world want these boys to marry them, to kiss them, but what do they really want? One Direction is just a dream, in reality, they are the thing everyone wants but no one can touch. So go ahead and write as many fanfics you want about them; they will never love you. Sorry to be harsh, but sometimes you have to face the cold hard reality named Life. So girls what do you want? Your parents attention? The end of your abusive relationship? Money to pay off student loans? Or, like me, do you want the boy? Harry is my way of screaming out, I want somebody to love me. But I never make a sound. My calls just echo in my heart and leave me feeling hollow again.