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.

 

 

seasonal aches

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It was summer

My hair was a bit shorter, my smile a bit bigger, and my eyes shining a whole lot brighter. I remember staying up till 3 am on the phone with him, I remember telling him about the art that I loved and how much he wanted me to try painting with him and maybe even on him–a flirty smile would slip on his face and I would blush almost immediately. I remember watching him cry one night while he confessed to me that he was a liar, that none of it was real and that I was a nice girl.

I shattered that day, a million or so cracks found their way on my porcelain surface and something strange inside of me broke forever.

But fall and winter gave me some time for healing, I escaped unscathed.

It was spring

My hair was a lot longer, my smile drifted in from time to time, and my eyes had faded quite a bit but I was coasting through life with someone that taught me how to feel in extremes. But he wanted things when he wanted them, and got them when he asked.

I went tumbling down once again and the fissures that had barely filled themselves opened up, the contents of my enclosed heart came pouring out and I can’t figure how I got over it last time–or why this time I can’t even describe how I feel.

Insignificance is purely relative by definition but sometimes it feels like a mass growing within your mind, body, and soul. I am shards of glass scattered on the tile and everyone is walking around me, careful not to get cut and waiting for someone else to come along and sweep up the mess. It’s all too much, it all feels too fresh still. A nasty wound that hasn’t been given the proper care, it oozes and pusses over the surface of my skin and leaves everyone with the sorest sight their eyes have ever seen.

But you don’t really care do you? You aren’t here to diagnose my aches and pains.

 

I can’t go back

Image result for tumblr aesthetic broken pinky promise

 

We used to be best friends, do you remember that? Do you remember the way we would laugh at the smallest of things, you and me against everyone else?

I think what happened in the summer changed me. It made me colder, the light I once had was snuffed for a moment–I haven’t been the same since. And it’s funny because it was just a small fling, nothing truly significant. But it fucked me up man.

And I am so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry that I changed, that I hurt you and treated you like the dust beneath my feet.

I still do at times, I push you away and try to shove myself into the smallest of confines because I have to be cautious. I have to stay vigil because people break promises and lie through their shining teeth while wiping the stray hairs from your face.

I’m trying to control it, but it creeps back–the uncertainty. It shakes me to my core and I remember all the times you’ve hurt me (unintentionally or otherwise) and I can’t help but shrink away from your seemingly concerned appearance. People are really good at lying to me, they always seem to take advantage of my naive nature.

So I am incredibly sorry. But no matter how many times you try to prove me otherwise, the sinking feeling will linger and I have to stay on guard.

I have to protect myself because something inside me broke a long time ago and it still hasn’t fixed itself since.

I’m sorry but I can’t go back to the sweeter times.