so do guys really jack off to pictures of girls in bikinis or any goddamn pictures of girls?
“I know I’m hard to love When I struggle to get out of bed in the morning I know I’m hard to love When I suddenly grow numb to all emotion I know I’m hard to love When I find the simplest tasks tiring I know I’m hard to love When I stress over the smallest things I know I’m hard to love When I’m no longer getting better I know I’m hard to love”
— and I’m sorry.
“What’s miserable is that I keep making myself believe that I could be with you, and that you think of me as much as I do with you. But you don’t. Gosh, you so don’t. But my heart refuses to believe that and makes up a love story in my head where you actually love me, like I have always loved you.”
— P.G.G
It hurts, ya know. Because you were my best friend, you were my favorite part of every day, for three years. You were my sun and my moon, you were every star in my stupid dipped pink sky. And it just doesn’t matter now. Isn’t that bizarre? You put your heart and soul into someone else’s hands and then it just ends and you have to take everything back. But you can’t take everything back. But you want to. But you don’t. And you can’t. That’s the worst part, you can’t. You make them the air that you breathe and then they’re gone and you have to keep breathing whatever toxicity is left behind, and it hurts. But no one is going to save you, because they can’t. And that’s the worst part too. You just want someone to take the hurt away for a minute, just a second, but they can’t. You have to keep living until the pain gets dull. You don’t want to because they were the best part of this life and now they aren’t here anymore and they don’t even care and you can hardly bear it. But you have to keep living anyways. And it hurts. Ya know? It hurts.
It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.
does it get better? yes. yes it does. at first you feel too much and you’ll cry. you will cry a lot and it feel like the end of the world. you might even reach out and contact them a couple of times, but they won’t reply back. eventually you’ll stop thinking about them all the time but during the day you’ll stop and think about what they’re doing. did they eat? I wonder if they got any sleep or if they’re flying back home for the summer. but through it all, you will learn to love yourself. you will learn that suddenly you love the colour pink or that you have a new found love for a show you thought you hated. sometimes you’ll fall apart, don’t expect this to be a journey where you will only keep going up, sometimes you will fall, you will fall back down so hard and it will hurt all over again but you have to get back up. get back up and show them that’s you’re okay. you’ll be drinking coffee and suddenly you’ll be crying because the colour reminds you of their deep brown eyes. maybe you’ll be listening to that song they told you about and suddenly you want to run away. but when that happens, remember how strong you were before them and continue. healing is a long process, it doesn’t happen in 2 days or even 2 months. you just have to keep pushing until one day you look back and just smile. smile because it happened but you know what, it’s okay. its okay if it ended badly or maybe the fact that you’re back to strangers. but you will smile, you will be grateful for the time spent and when you can fully do that without wanting to go back to them, that’s when you have healed. keep going baby, you got this.
and the truth is i have formed a really shitty habit of hiding behind ideas to shield myself of the reality of things. things meaning love. love meaning the coffee color of your eyes, the thickness of your eyelashes, the way you’re so sure of yourself you hardly think before you speak. and the truth is you seem so dangerously easy to fall in love with. and honestly, i want to take that risk but then again i don’t. i’m afraid i won’t be enough for you, or maybe i’ll be too much, because for all of my life i have hovered between the empty, haunting space between the two. sometimes i think i’m impossible to fall in love with because no one has really tried to love me. and i don’t mean the “good morning” text type of love, or the kissing at the right time type of love, or the asking if i have a snapchat type of love. no, i mean the drunk voicemails at 3am type of love, or the trace the moles on my arm like they are constellations in a bursting sky type of love, or the pouring your heart out when the words grow too large to hold inside type of love. i’ve been trying to convince myself that type of love is only for movie scenes and book protagonists but shit, i’d be lying if i said i don’t hope that someone would prove me wrong. there has to be something more out there than predictable dates or generic “i love you” texts or the exhausting cycle of getting to know someone and then having them leave without leaving anything more than bruises and memories. i have tried to drown the romantic in myself so many times but every time i lay eyes on you, or your name pops up on my phone, or you laugh in that loud, confident way of yours, it comes back up gasping for air. it keeps on begging for someone to help keep it afloat. and the truth is i’m so fucking tired of a cycle of almosts— as in, we almost worked out, we almost made it, i almost loved them, they almost fell in love with me. i’m tired of my fantasies meeting reality half way. i’m tired of mediocre kisses and fingertips that hold no electricity or love that holds no weight. and fuck, maybe we don’t have to last forever, maybe you don’t have to be the love of my life and maybe i don’t have to be the love of yours. maybe you can just show me something. something i haven’t seen before. something large, aching, real, fuck, something worth my time and my energy and my attention. maybe that’s all i need right now. maybe that’s all i ever wanted all along. and the truth is i have formed a really shitty habit of hiding behind ideas to shield myself of the reality of things. but i’m really tired of hiding. i’m willing to take the risk if that means i’ll save myself a single more moment about wondering what the reality of love feels like.
—- ap (12.18) teach me the reality of love because i am so tired of wondering what it feels like
I knew I loved you because I don’t just think about you when I’m alone.
I think about you when I’m having a blast in a room full of people I love the most, but still wishing you were there, to experience it too.
Pieces of Me
(Future Husband)
I can’t do this anymore,
my head feels like it’s going to explode,
and my heart collapse,
i have no support system left,
i can’t be selfish and damage people anymore than i already have,
i am alone and in pain
and it is completely and utterly my fault.
«I wish i could just leave everything behind, without hurting anyone.»
I didnt choose to be born. I didnt choose this life. I never wanted anything of this. Why can’t i just go back to being unknown instead of staying here being unwanted?
-Iamsorry
