There’s so much classic music I don’t know and so many cult movies I haven’t seen. I don’t have one true passion in life, and I take everything day by day, which sounds potentially alluring but it has its allowance and it uses it up from time to time.
I am always confused, and when I’m not, it’s only because my mind is vacant. I find it hard to make my words sound genuine, which surely must call attention to how forced they truly are. It seems too generic to say I’m awkward and I feel awkward calling myself generic, but it’s what I think I am.
People find me so captivating because I have a solemn expression when I think no one’s looking and a smile when I know they are. I have scars on my arms from twisted coping methods, but I laugh. I’m not always putting up a front, though. My smile is very often sincere. There’s nothing so enigmatic about it.
I don’t mean to be a downer, it’s just that I don’t believe there’s much inherently intriguing about me. And as long as I’m mentioning the scars, I may as well pick at them a bit and mention that my relationship history certainly has validated that belief for me over the years.
They lose interest, is all.
I think I’d still like to give you a shot. I’m scared, but not scared enough. It’s uncomfortable to think about starting fresh with someone new at times, but you make me happy.
It just makes me nervous that you’re digging around for something because maybe someday you’ll realize there’s really not anything worth digging for.
But maybe you won’t.
So often, the only reminder that you were there and that I left and that we shared anything at all before I did is the sinister frustration that I feel brewing beneath my eyebrows when I mentally revisit arguments’ irksome qualities I at the time overlooked or wrote off as bad judgment when I gave up and gave you the benefit of the doubt (the most endearing quality of our partnership, I gather) while telling myself you were only getting defensive because of your own insecurities. But, shit, you know what? That’s not good enough, and I don’t think it ever was.
You were wrong. So much of the time. Wrong wrong wrong. It wasn’t me making stupid points or antagonizing— no. You were wrong each and every time you shut down and shut me out.
You were wrong when you completely just changed your argument from statement to statement. You were wrong every time you slammed a door or let me walk past.
You were wrong for running away and you were wrong for coming home to find me gone (because I was outside trying to find you) and going to bed instead of trying to find me.
You were wrong for lying there when I tried to have sex with you, and you couldn’t have been more wrong when you got mad at me for ever having problems feeling sexy and desirable.
You were wrong when your first response was “do I need to kick somebody’s ass?”
You were wrong when you said “I hate myself” instead of “I love you” or “I fucking suck” instead of “I’m sorry.”
You were wrong when you kept using the words “bitchy” and “stupid” when I tried censoring out the word “mean.”
You were wrong when you got angry and said “just be happy.”
You were wrong when you said you would leave if I ever slipped up and you were still wrong when you tried to make what you said better.
You were wrong when you quit your job and you were wrong for berating me for not spending my money wisely.
You were wrong when you wouldn’t let me apologize for inadvertently hurting your feelings.
You were wrong when you thought we’d get married, and, fuck, were you ever wrong when you asked your damn parents for an engagement ring. Third time’s the charm, because you were especially wrong for giving it to me in defeat when we first spoke of breaking up. Oh, and you were wrong for telling me you wanted me to have it.
You were wrong when you said what you said about my brother and I was wrong to not be so astronomically bothered by it at the time but you were wrong because you had already lost me by then.
You were wrong all the times you told me you were thinking about whether or not you were going to try winning me back, as if you telling me you were in fact going to try was all it was going to take to do so.
You were wrong when you called me sweet and said “I know you don’t think you deserve anything” because I do.
And you were wrong when you told me I was being selfish when I broke up with you, because all I was doing was what you did months prior— I was giving up.
I Am a Better, Stronger, Happier Version of Myself Without You.
y’all fucked with the wrong bitch
This makes me laugh every time
If I’ve learned anything from video games, it is that when you meet enemies, it means that you’re going in the right direction.
This is one of the most profound things I’ve ever heard.
Enemies or obstacles.
the best kind of relationship is the kind where you two just cant not be touching or near each other. Theres no real boundary between their body and yours, you just need them close as much as you need your body attached.