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I’ve done the in between stuff.

Not really dating but not completely over.

I’ve convinced myself that it was ok, that I could be that person that sacrifices the need for commitment for a few stolen moments in the night.

But I can’t do that with you. I can’t sacrifice 9 whole months of love, feeling like I’m the only one on your mind and knowing that you’ll always choose me. I can never ever sacrifice that for you and above all else for myself.

Maybe we saw each other too soon. I lied. I said I would be ok but I’m not. I just wanted to see you; in my own selfish way I wanted to see if I could convince you to choose me. But all I did was cause even more heartache for myself.

You can’t have me both ways, I can’t become “just friends” but then magically become the love of your life once more just because you feel like kissing me. Or touching me like you used to not even days before, or say my name with such fondness that it feels like you gave me the title.

I’ve been through this, but it hurts astronomically more with you because I actually believed we had a chance. It’s breaking me in half because I’m still completely in love with you.

You took half of me with you when you sent that text.

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Forget me nots

I want to feel good again. I want the insecurities and scars of memories to leave my mind. I want to not constantly look over my shoulder for the bad times that always seem to creep in when things feel calm.

I want to forget the nights I’ve cried because I was stupid and didn’t see warning signs. I want to forget about the people that hurt me because I know I wouldn’t dare let it happen again.

I want to remember how beautiful I am. I want to remember how the curvatures of my body are something to be envied and that I don’t need to hurt myself to feel pretty. I want to get out of this endless loop of contemplating and complaining, of vexing accusations and void statements.

I have words for how I feel but I also have none. I have fear. Fear of what could be and fear of what isn’t said.

I am too precious to lose, I know that. But I also feel like this loss would be a breath of fresh air, that everyone would be better off.

Importance, a state of being that I don’t remember. I want to feel important I want to be important. I want to be the one.

I don’t want to be forgotten.

Why.

why

 

You should’ve told me. I gave you every opportunity to confess even though the answer was right there the entire time, I was just hoping–praying–you wouldn’t hurt me like this. That you didn’t have the capacity to completely rip apart what little shreds of dignity I scraped along after him.

It’s not like December. Maybe in some raw form, but honestly if I take a clear look at the events of before and now, it’s day and night. You see, I had the courtesy, the respect, to be upfront about what happened between me and him. But you, you hid behind a fake facade of care and love to make yourself feel a little less guilty.

And I am hurting so much. This is to be expected from other people, people that we used to gawk and stare at incredulously; “How could someone do that” we’d ask each other “How can another girl sleep with her friend’s ex? They’re like sharing or something that’s so gross.” How could you do that? Especially knowing how I was with him not even a few days prior.

And I lied to you I’ll admit, I said that we weren’t going to hook up anymore. But that was a full, intentional lie. He told me to lie, said it was for the best and I fully believed that and I still kind of do. But then again I don’t. Because maybe you would’ve had a little bit more self control, maybe you would’ve remembered that I HATE LYING. Especially when you think it’ll make the truth a little bit more tolerable. But it doesn’t it makes it so much worst. It makes you wonder if every single memory of our friendship is fabricated and underlying with lies and betrayal.

It makes me wonder if you were ever my friend at all. You don’t care about me. Be honest with yourself and realize that “family” doesn’t do that shit. At least my family doesn’t. You only want me around because I care about you. You’re just like him. And don’t you dare say he cares about me ever again. I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re saying that more to yourself than me. Which sickens me even more.

I can’t sleep, I don’t have any care to eat or take care of myself properly. I just want to punch a wall until my knuckles bleed, or cry until my throat goes hoarse. Anything to get rid of the burning I feel anytime I look at you.

So why do you continue to interact with me? If you cared you would leave me alone, you would let me hurt and heal and wait until I was ready to look you in the eyes. But instead you make attempts to smile at me, to wave, to make a joke. Do you not understand I’m too weak to properly ward you off? That you have literally stabbed me in the back and each glance my way is another twist.

That every single time I see you two within feet of each other I wonder how two people I thought I loved, that I thought loved me don’t give a fuck as long as I’ll be around to catch them when they slip.

And I was just a pawn in both of your lives.

So tell me Why. Why should I forgive and forget?

 

White noise

 

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“Are you ok?” Um no not really thanks for asking.

“ Is everything ok?” Define ok.

“How can I help?” I don’t know, I’m sorry but I really don’t know.

“What’s going on with you?”  I just, I can’t breathe, I feel numb but everything is on fire.

“Why do you look so down?” Oh it’s nothing see look I’m smiling, I’m smiling I promise.

“I’m here ok I promise.” You said that before, you left me before.

“You’re not alone I’m here.” Then why do I feel so far away?

“You’re special you are, I promise.” How? Tell me how. Tell me. See, you can’t.

“Let me help you.” I never tried to stop you. You just gave up.

“Look at how many people love you.” I know, fuck you, I know, and I love you.

“You’d really do that to them? Really?” Please I just, I can’t breathe. It hurts. I’m hurt.

Give me a reason to stay on this earth. A real reason.

remember the girl with fire on her fingertips?

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Originally I was going to make my last post one gigantic thing but I realize I have much to say about this particular topic swirling around my head so…double post.

Being single is really fun in the summer, but also really frigging complicated and let me explain why for you all; I love a good hookup. Sorry for the bluntness, sorry for maybe shocking you a little considering how heartfelt my last post was but I have to be candid in order to properly voice my problem.

I don’t like sex–ok that’s a lie, I do enjoy sex BUT for right now the idea of it is not appealing because of the whole previous relationship thing. What I mean is, my hookup definition is vastly different than most boys, which is what is complicating things. I like a good old fashioned heated make out in the back of a car or your friends bedroom (ahem…not that I’ve done any of those things whaaatttt) but the problem is once you’ve started that guys tend to expect more; and the whole “I had a whole pregnancy scare that traumatized me and my mom and I really don’t want to relive that situation so I’m trying to stay abstinent until I’m ready to be in a committed relationship” speech is kind of a boner killer.

Now here is what complicates my life even more. I hooked up (NO SEX REMEMBER HOOK UP IN THIS SENSE AS IN SEXY KISSING MOMENTS) with a boy that I come into close contact because of my friend circles, and he was a senior. After our fun times he proceeded to go on with a speech about how he wasn’t ready for anything serious (which I wasn’t…I wasn’t expecting anything serious I had just always found him attractive and a little scary but in a hot way) which made me feel really weird. I am the type of girl that understands these things, I’m a big kid; I don’t need a whole speech about how you’re living the casual life because guess what? Me too buddy. I did appreciate the sensitivity though, it was sweet that he cared for my feelings afterwards…which had the opposite affect he wanted. I was then over analyzing everything I was doing a) because of my lovely brain sabotaging me (we were in downward spiral at this point) and b) because I didn’t want to freak him out with my innate instinct to care for people I kiss. I mean it worked for the most part, but then something awful was occurring–I wanted to do it more.

So here I was, weeks of no one kissing me or cuddling, hoping that maybe this boy would wanna do it again. To my surprise (and utter relief) he did. BUT ME BEING THE DUMB ASS I AM COULDN’T CONTROL MY FUCKING HORMONES AND I MADE OUT WITH ANOTHER BOY.

A boy. Who is also in his friend group. BUT IN MY DEFENSE I had had people instigating this so it’s not my fault entirely. So yeah, I kissed another guy and it was…alright. The hot now graduated senior boy was kind of…better. I hate to say it but it’s true. And I had to see him knowing full well that he probably knows what occurred so now I look like a thirsty hoe.

So my problem here is, I am unintentionally spiraling down a path I do not plan on going on; and it’s like no one cares. No one is stopping me from pushing past the point of no return and my brain is kind of like “Hello? Is no one going to tell me this is wrong? You’re all just going to let me ruin my reputation? Alright, bet. And we’re all aware that I am incapable of knowing when enough is truly enough given my mental state right? Okay so if we’re all on the same page I’ll just keep messing up thanks.”

It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside doing these reckless things, knowing that it’ll have consequences, and not caring enough to stop myself. I’m kind of scared in a way, I want someone to save me from myself–I want someone to care about me enough to stop me from becoming something they know I’m not. But I’m not strong enough to ask for it.

This is a cry for help I guess, someone stop me from becoming the body that every guy thinks he can rent for the night.

genesis

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I am alive after a small break of mainly clarity, among other things. I will not lie, the last time I wrote on here I was on the very edge of holding on–so close to letting it all slip away. I shudder now, cringe at the very thought of going through what I had planned.

It’s all so trivial; but all of the things that had happened revealed to me that abuse/manipulation comes in many forms. As I have ridden down from the natural high that person had once given me I have deduced key moments that should have been warning signs.

  1. He was hell bent on getting me out of a relationship that I was for the most part, very happy in. I was trophy, a challenge that confused him–I saw this as flattering but it was borderline obsessive and egotistical.
  2. He had a God complex. He wanted people to revere and maybe even fear him a little. He feels he deserves all of the respect and honor that the world can give without lifting a single finger. In small doses, this would be human–it would be acceptable. But at some moments it would consume him.
  3. He didn’t like being told no. The word “no” didn’t mean the same for him as it did others. It simply meant “maybe another time”, this was dangerous. This was something I didn’t take notice of, but should have. God, I should have.
  4. If he saw an opportunity, he took it. That was his fucking justification for lying, for cheating. He saw the opportunity, and he took it.
  5. I wasn’t allowed to be sad or upset. Any of my insecurities or a small voice of unsatisfactory was met with condescend and sneer. I was built up, but it was undercut with annoyance and manipulative speech of all that he would do for me. It was empty words that made me loathe myself for even suggesting I was worth more than a fleeting compliment.
  6. His love turned sour fast. Sometimes I find myself submerged in the thick honey of our sweeter times only to be yanked to the surface and find a trail of ants in the wake. It started out small, he would be on his phone a lot more when he was with me or not really pay attention if I said something. Then the demands for the so called preciousness between my thighs got a lot more insistent; and once he got that, our “special” times were always overcast with his jeering comments about my appearance, or his insistent flirting with other girls right in front of me.
  7. After everything was over, he wouldn’t let me go. Prom night–I went to prom with a group of friends, it was the prettiest I had felt in such a long time–it was the last slow song of the night. One of my dearest friends danced with me, we dramatically glided across the dance floor with as much extra flair as we could; I broke away to speak to some other friends of mine mid song and he walked over, asked me to dance. As that song ended, he kissed me. He kissed me and I think that led to my spiral downward that I mentioned before, he didn’t even feel the need to actually talk about it afterwards until I brought it up.It’s like he wants to see if he still affects me, and he’s right every time.
  8. I am so so so so so much stronger than him. I can breathe without him, I am lovable, I am beautiful, I deserve to be nurtured and cared for properly, and I fucking deserve to live. There will be times that I may falter when I see him, my breath may quicken ever so slightly the minute our eyes meet but I know damn well I can reach inside myself and find the willpower to never let him in again.

He will not erase my name.

Intrusive: a spoken word

 

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I want you to think, I want you to imagine, I want you to step into my shoes for a moment.

You had the best feeling you could ever EVER have with someone.

But you had to leave, not just for yourself but for him as well because above all else HEALTH must come before all wants and needs.

And you go to bed with guilt rising from the stomach into your  throat praying to God that you’ll wake up and he’ll still exist in the world for one more day.

You’ll never know what it feels like to truly touch him again because honey, you’re the mistake.

Because from now on you are a walking VOID of seduction with the scars of his past etched onto your skin and lingering on your lips.

The sound of your name makes him itch and scratch, pawing at the now raw skin that resides beneath his clothes.

He knows you would never hurt him and that’s what scares him the most.

Because you still care, and he doesn’t know why.

You imagine him staring up at his ceiling fan late at night asking why, why WHY, why am I still alive?

My love you fail to realize that YOU are his poison, YOU are the contamination he cannot control.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

The only bridge you have between you and him is someone you love like family.

But he goes to HER, she goes to HIM, he talks to HER, she talks to HIM, and you sit there and wait for an update.

You sit there and twiddle your thumbs like a scared little girl because you realize how insignificant you are.

It is not jealousy that bubbles underneath the surface of your skin.

It is the pure hatred of yourself and who you are.

How does it feel to know that the one person you care about the most can’t stand to look at you without feeling like they’re burning?

To know that whatever kindness you try to give will only make it worst.

 

To know that you are an INFECTION that ceases to heal itself.

My dear YOU are the problem, and I swear to GOD  you better bite down on that “I love you” unless you want him to reach for the noose.

Standing there, wide eyed and helpless, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

I want you to step into my shoes.