happy new year!

weheartit

may 2010 bring you all you wish for and more!!!

♥

you're in my head

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i would rather be alone

roc21

This was written a year ago, but I still fight with myself: Love, or no love? Destroy myself, or fix it?

I have never known love.
I have never been held by somebody who said
“We fit together”.
There has never been another
And that is fine.
I can’t live up to someone’s standards
And I can’t give more than I can take
Of my heart to only one.
There isn’t a part of me
That I can let ache
Because I need him by me.
It means I'm not sure I can be faithful.
I can’t give up drinking, and messing myself up,
Until I am tangled and bent.
It is my art, and it is an instinct
To remain convoluted and tormented.
It’s not a burden I can lay on someone without guilt.
Everyone is shallow to some extent,
And unless he is beautiful superficially,
I won’t be able to step out holding his hand.
Walk, head held high,
Telling the crowd that yes, he is mine
And I am his.
There are parts of me I love,
Slender ankles, fragile eyes,
But too many that I hate.
So it is impossible to believe someone
Who tells me that I am deadly
Beautiful,
Until those parts are blotted out, fixed.
I will continue to deal with anorexia and depression,
States that will always threaten to asphyxiate me
And I understand these are things that most people can’t understand.
This sort of continual struggle
Which I let creep beneath my thoughts
Every single fucking day.
Parts of me that are locked away,
Quietly pushed to the furthest corners
Under the bed
Shamefully.
There are dreams of coffee in the morning,
Cigarettes after sex,
Fingers down my back,
And falling asleep on his lap.
But I am unsure of what to say, and how to act
So he won’t feel oppressed or worse
Unloved.
I swing between extremes,
And there is no in between.
I live explosively, and that’s not something
Easily accepted.
Terrified of all these rules and warnings
And reining back,
I would rather be alone.

-i'd like to remain anonymous.

eaten alive by it

just bears + adorechic

it's difficult to love yourself.

thanks lizzie!

i dream of you sometimes…

kenichihoshine

I dream of you sometimes
Yearning for your image to exist outside my mind
Hoping that it will only be a matter of time
Before we meet and allow our eyes to speak
Knowing more then what our eyes can see
Patiently waiting to begin our destiny
This is where my soul will lead
Letting go of the thoughts of your physique
So that I can see through
Wanting to explore
Deep into the truth
Knowing that you are because he already knew
That I was the rib to fit inside of you
No other will ever do
See we never had to choose
He never asked us to
He just wanted us to trust and believe
That I'm for you and you're for me
I'm just waiting for this to be
A sudden sigh
As I drift off to sleep
Dwelling in my unconscious mind
I dream of you sometimes…

-kendall

i dreamed about her all night.

ffffound

i met her in a kitchen, she was visiting a friend of mine. my sunny california.
they had been friends since they were 6 and were both far from home. i often think about destiny, if it even matters.
things that happens happens, we meet the people we meet.
and i met her that evening.

a few hours later we were getting ready for a night out on the town. we were almost 10 people who were going out and she was one of them.

there were no delayed glances, no glitter or fireworks. i dont know if i even looked at her during the evening.
we took the train to town and she ended up sitting next to me.
' i heard you just broke up with your girlfriend, so you are into girls? ' she asked.
i nervously started to separate my curls with my fingers.
she held my arm when we were walking to the club, danced beside me, sat beside me on the way home.
i didn't really think of it so much.

03.00 in the morning. I hear her steps in the corridor, she just wanted to say good night. her smile lights up the corridor.

12.00, she knocks on the door. wants me to join for breakfast.
she eats noodles in a cup and it makes me laugh, she wears knitted clothes and curls up in the sofa. she listens and answers, i smile and laugh.
her eyes is like burned almond, her skin is like whipped cream. when she speaks it's like vanilla for my ears, strawberries for my tongue.
i dreamed about her all night.

16.30 the day after she takes the flight back to manchester. we didn't even say goodbye.
' that just means that you have to visit me in california soon ' she says.
i set my clock to london-time and wonders if this is how it should feel.

-k

trapped inside my brain

weheartit

I have never tasted love.

I have never been blessed with the true feeling of love. I've always felt like an outcast in that way. Placed beside the world of loving individuals. Like it's not meant for me. You see, I'm a dreamer. And in my dreams I'm head over hills in love and it's mutual. Unfortunately, this makes me an observer. I observe everything and everyone around me, and the importance of my own actions fails. It's like I'm trapped inside my brain and completely unable to... do life. I think I'm in love with the thought of being in love, how cliché it may sound. And I don't want to wait forever. Maybe I'm just gonna have to accept it. Maybe there is this insignificant number of all the billion people on earth, who just aren't supposed to fall in love...

/L

♥ puppy

but you always wake up.

coupdegrace

On the morning I woke up and didn't crumble back into my bed, consumed with the overwhelming need to cry until I fell back asleep, I flirted with the idea that maybe I had gotten over him. That there was a small chance I had concluded one phase of grieving and moved on to the next; a more subtle type of pain that was numbing in his absence.

When he stopped showing up in my dreams, relief that I was no longer plagued by him and sadness that he was gone filled my heart and took up residence as a pseudo replacement - if he couldn't be around then at least I had this fabricated dichotomy to placate me.

A week before his car collided head on with a truck, a message was sent to him in sarcasm, masking (displaying) hurt and annoyance at his slacking communication. A week plus one day later, when I received the phone call, the only regret I can lay claim to in life was sending that message. Famous last words.

Of course, in death - as he always did in life, in the life I knew of him as my friend - he appeared again in sleep. This time reassuring me that everything was okay. In another, I received the same call - he had died all over again, and the hysteria seeped back in.

In the best one, he was standing in front of me - stunned and unbelieving of what I was seeing - that same disarming grin worn proudly on his face; look at me, I'm alive. And he was.

But you always wake up.

-S

you lost me.

~nuozek

The last night i spent with you, i laid in your bed huddled next to you, desperate for warmth. Not from the room, or the temperature, but from the body laying next to me already fast asleep as if nothing in the world was troubling them. I, on the other hand, stared wide eyed into the foggy bedroom, watching the fan blades spin around and around in one motion over and over. Just like us. A repeat. I felt the silence, i felt the space between us - it felt like a house was wedged between us even though essentially all but two or three inches separated us. That was the last night i spent with you, next to you, a part of you.

The next morning something set you off. Something stupid, something that was never worth the fight and that's when the real you started seeping out. The anger, the refusal to communicate, the distance, everything I hated about you that turned the one i love into something so ugly. You told me it was over and I couldn't believe it. Wait, yes i could. Because secretly i had been trying to work up the nerve to leave you. Unfortunately you beat me to it, you had never been on to try to make it work and that's where you fooled me.

Rewind back to seven months ago when I received that message from you that brought all my hard work and progress crumbling to pieces. You had me pinned in this exact situation before. After three years of love you gave up on us, and now after a year of me gaining strength, of FINALLY getting over you...you want me back. I had consecutive dreams where you would return to me, and strong like a soldier i would turn you away in the coldest way possible, just like you had been to me. But in real life the story was incredibly different. I fell for that boy all over again. My mistake, as i would later learn. You lured me in with a new attitude, a new person, with words that convinced me you would try this time around and that you really cared. Jokes on me i suppose. It lasted for a few weeks, but your facade began to deteriorate ever so subtly until finally I was stuck in a loveless relationship. I would oogle at the couples out in public, the ones that couldn't get enough of each other, the ones that didn't care what other people though, the ones who were just mad about eachother and i'd compare it to our meaningless love. You wanted so much space, too much space. We were ten minutes apart yet i'd see you only a few days out of the week and hear form you once a day. You never did anything nice for me, never went out of your way to say you loved me, nothing. But yet i stood by you, i took this, and i thought maybe if i were different, you would love me.

You see, i was different. It was you that was never different. So you left me again, and i begged, but only because i don't give up. You do. You are weak, and you can look at the girl who stands before you with tears running freely asking for something out of you, anything at all, and laugh, but at least i know how to love and that is something you will never know. So here i go. I'm letting go completely this time. I'm growing without you. I'm stepping out of my comfort zone. It'll be harder than before but easier in the long run. I deserve better than you. I am better than you. And i will build myself up, i will fall in love with myself, so that next time you come around I'm strong enough to not make the same mistake twice.

You lost something amazing. You lost me.

-K

♥

weheartit

i can't

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i can't. i can't i can't i can't.
i can't do this anymore. its going to kill me. i just can't. i need to move on.
but.
i can't stop loving him. i can't and i need to because its the worst thing ever.
i can't because thinking of everything that happened literally makes me sick to my stomach.
i can't because he's the only one i ever think about.
he's the one i don't want to think about, but i cannot stop.
i can't because i never got to kiss him, i never felt his breath between my lips.
i can't because i spend my days fantasizing about him surprising me,
showing up on my doorstep, telling me he made a mistake.
i can't because i see her everyday.
i see her and i think of what they used to have and i agonize over whether he chose her.
i can't because i don't even know if he chose her.
i don't even know because he is so confusing and frustrating
and he makes everything so unclear.
i can't because he might still have feelings for me.
there is that sliver of a chance and while i know its probably not true,
it makes it impossible to let go.
i can't because i think about being in his arms every second.
the hairs of his beard brushing my cheek gently.
the feeling of his warmth beneath my fingers.
i can't because the way our fingers intertwined was perfect.
it felt warm and soft and right.
i can't because he understood me.
he just got me, right from the start.
and i don't find that often. not often at all.
i can't because we would be perfect together.
i know we would. and it's too hard for me to give up on that.
i can't because EVERYTHING makes me think of him.
crayons. tattoos. band tees. school buses. nose rings.
and every time i see them im completely overwhelmed.
i can't because i practically start crying in the middle of the gym when a song comes on that makes me think of him. which is a lot of songs.
i can't because i've tried and it doesn't work. i want to stop so much.
its just not going to happen.
i can't because i don't see other guys. i don't even see them as being guys.
its like they don't exist to me now.
i can;t because i imagined our insane, amazing, beautiful future and it's all i want.
i thought it was really going to happen and now the pain is eating me up.
i can't because i want him more than i've ever wanted anything in my life.

i can't breathe. i can't focus. i can't be without him. i can't go the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like.

i just can't.

i fell upon a pill so intoxicating I couldn't resist.

bombagoda

"Just because a woman is lovesick doesn't mean she has to take the first pill that comes along"

I have been lovesick for years now, broken by seemingly infallible relationships and bruised by heartbreak. I wasn't looking for pills; in fact, I was avoiding them at all costs. The last thing I needed was a shiny new pill with side effects overriding the benefits that always seemed so dear to me. But I fell upon a pill so intoxicating I couldn't resist. This pill was fascinating, beautiful, the only pill in the world that seemed to be able to make me feel alive, beautiful, and full of hope. This pill was a dreamer, with no doubt about any hardships he couldn't overcome. This pill was an old soul, trapped in a young, beautiful body. This pill had spirit, and interests in things I have always just passed by as common occurrences in everyday life. I didn't want this pill, It was merely to pass the time by in my days of loneliness. This pill dragged me out of the darkness, and into a world of new beginnings, of hope when I thought happiness was impossible. And then this pill moved. Hours and hours away while I was locked down under the fact of my innocence, of my dependence, of my youth living in a household that had a grasp so tight on me I could hardly breathe. This pill moved to a city full of life, where it could thrive and learn at the art school of this pill's dreams. A city of promise and new experiences, while my broken heart was trapped in a suburban town known to promote set-in-stone beliefs and pretty houses and fancy cars. A town promoting one type of people, when all I wanted to do was be with my drug, the drug that listens to the music of the twenties, that has a soul of the fifties, and the unique insight I'm not sure an era has yet seen. This pill inspires me to be my own person, to think deeply about what is important to me, to question my ignorant ways of the past. And soon I will be living in the beautiful city with this pill, flourishing in this town embracing uniqueness, loving the diversity of it, and having hope for those who are too blind to see past the materialism I had been so caught up in. I will soon be able to have my fix, while following my own dreams I didn't quite know I had before my drug drew them out from deep within my soul. My pill is a boy. A boy that showed me I can love again, and not only I can love again, but I can love without limits. Because the miles between us don't matter as long as we both know that my sickness has subsided.

i have been left waiting for too long.

-emillie-

through some twist of fate we found each other. actually, you found me. you, l'étranger, settling in another city, another country. i was supposed to help, i guess that didn't pan out quite as expected...

so we met and we laughed and we shared wine and stories. and i came home with a smile and a promise we'd see each other again. soon. and we met again. and again. and we marveled at how much two lives could resemble one another with so much land between them.

let's be candid. you were good for my ego. but of course you were never supposed to be more than that. if anything were to happen between us it had an expiration date, because at the end of the year you're obviously going back home. so i was definitely not going to get entangled, not going to let myself fall in love with you. that was the plan.

and then you held me. and you kissed me. still i thought i could resist. but every time you kissed me, every time you touched me i cleared out a little more room for you in my life. and for the butterflies in my stomach.

so this was me, not caring if we publicly displayed our affection or who saw it, because it was just not that big of a deal. act, don't think, do not feel!

then the rain came. it reminded you of what you had lived before me. of what you had been through. and suddenly i stopped being your guide and became the person you didn't really know and couldn't bring yourself to trust. somehow i became l'étrangère, the stranger.

and now i'm stuck here. between giving you space to resolve your life and having given you space in my life. and i'm sorry to say, that while i had started to stray from the plan, despite having told you how patient i can be, i just don't know that i can wait for you to be ready. i can't not know if you'll be ready before we run out of time. i have been left waiting for too long.

so could you please, please hurry up?

-L.

love of my life.

weheartit

The person I am in a relationship with wanted to kill me this year. Yep. True story. Yeah, I would say it’s been a pretty bad year for us.

Obviously, she can kind of be a b*tch. The thing is, because she knows me so intimately, she also knows exactly how to hurt me. Usually by bringing up some sordid detail from my (admittedly) imperfect past. She knows, for example, that I had sex with my best friends boyfriend. Scorns me for drinking too much. Chastises me for losing my temper with my mother. Ridicules me for me for my lack of knowledge on politics and current affairs. She knows every physical flaw on my body and draws attention to this frequently. Particularly before I leave the house on Saturday night.

And, okay... I’m a pretty awkward person. No, I mean really. I do the most ridiculous things. I accidentally ended an email to my University tutor with “xx” (yet still didn’t do well in that subject). I fill silences with questions like “So...do you....have....many people....in...your....family?”. Yep. It probably sounds insignificant, but in these situations she will always laugh at me...not with me (see, I told you. Total b*tch).

I’m making it sound almost comical, but this year she’s destroyed my self-esteem. She’s like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada, only meaner. Because of her, it’s really difficult to let other people close to me. I don’t feel worthy. And in some ways her criticisms have become self-fulfilling prophecies. She has told me I’m un-lovable enough that I’m starting to act that way.

The thing is, I can’t break up with this person. I know with full certainty that I will be with this person ‘till the very end. Because this person is me.

Yet, I know I’m not as horrible as I sound. Because I’m on this website. I truly believe in love. And I know most of you reading this must as well. But it all starts within. Last year was painful, but it bought clarity. This year I’m going to really work on the most significant relationship of my life: the one with myself. And I’m starting right now, not on New Years Eve. I want to start 2010 properly.

I know it will require more than just a decision to love myself. Because, honestly, the past year has damaged me. I don’t completely like who I am right now. But self-hatred has done me no favours, it’s time to let go of the inner Meryl Streep: this year I will allow myself to make mistakes in the knowledge that I’m truly trying to grow into a person that I just don’t tolerate, but someone that I truly love. Because, as Oscar Wilde said “To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance”.

L. xx (those were intended)

love story

^01: introduction^


^02: a letter^

you can find this on-going love story over at STORIES.
plus you can submit your ideas on how the story goes!

thanks arvida!

Emo Hairstyle for Girl

Emo Hairstyle

Emo Hairstyle

Emo Hairstyle

Emo Hairstyle

it’s easy.

Sometimes I feel like im 17 again. When my skin fit. When eyes fell softly on me. When my wingspan held the weight of me. When fingerprints grazed but never sat on me. My neck and waist were free of them. When empty was good. Only room to be filled. Nothing to be stolen. Taken. Consumed. This pen of many more pounds just weeks ago. And now, ink and words are pulled out of it. Promise spilling out of it. Every night I wake in between a chain of dreams. I gasp. Or frown. Or sweetly hum. Either way, finding the ground. Grounding myself to the reality I will eventually wake again to. Dream. Wake. Dream. Dream. Wake. And somewhere in between them, you slipped under the sheets. One leg at a time. Half dream. Half reality. A bridge between my two worlds. Hands and feet of butter. A thumb pressed hard and slow down me…along where my hair meets my face. Melts me back to sleep. Finding me with each toss. Finding a fit with each turn. Pull the wall back. Let the light in. I want to see you. A hot breath lays thick on your neck. A sweat climbs to the surface of your back. Sticky and sweet. A heat buried in me….alive again. Awake again. Steam seeps out of me. Wraps us. This night gave me back five years. I saw you once when I was a young girl. When I watched my father’s veins swell. And I watched my mother’s chest sink. And my eyes shut just long enough for me to see you. I saw your hands, but not your face. I saw how you would feel, but not how you would look. Between their yells I heard you whisper something that made sense. Your hands, your voice, gave me back 23 years. The only settling we can speak of now is the way the sea has settled beneath me. The way the tips crashed and spun and now sleep calmly on their sea floor.

Settled. Not settling.

You make me feel 17 again. It’s easy.

-CM

but there you are

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here i am, remembering about us again. i don’t know why all this is coming back now. i’ve dealt with it in virtually every aspect of my life, because the similarities seem to come up in some way or another. and you know what? i haven’t let myself fall for anyone again. no one has made me feel the way you could make me feel, and i wonder if anyone ever will.

all i know right now is that i’ve grown up a lot since then. and it makes me smile every time i think about it. i guess because i don’t like to admit to myself that all that drama and all that attention back then, i loved it. i loved it at first when i wasn’t worried of the possibilities that came later. i loved the way you made me feel. i loved how you could always make me laugh, and how many times you’d catch my eye in the middle of that laughter, and for a moment i believed that things could be different.

deep down though, i guess i always knew they never would be.

that was the problem-- you were way out of my league, and i knew that. it made it so frustrating, so ironic, that i couldn’t help myself from having such a hopeless crush. but it was because you were different. you were one of the few guys i always had respect for, you were the one who i laughed with and looked forward to seeing every day. i don’t know if you knew it or not. everyone else sure did. but you gave me a chance, and i let down my guard. i tricked myself into having hope, when i so clearly shouldn’t have had any. and from there, i suddenly freaked out. i suddenly realized how much it was screwing me up, and i couldn’t do a thing about it.

for the past two years, i’ve been trying to let it go. trying to move on with my life, avoiding any brush i might have with the past, avoiding any encounter i think i might have that would change the way things were. they were over. and i wanted myself to believe that.

but the thing is, it’s not over. i guess i’m just now realizing that it’s never going to be over. maybe i should have dealt with it better than i did. but i couldn't, and when i left, things were a mess. they still are. i thought it would go away; i thought i would forget you and everything we once were.

but i haven’t. i’ve wished so many times that i could forget, but there you are-- constantly on my mind, it seems, because tiny little things always trigger my memory. i try to push it away, instead of dealing with it. that’s what i do with anything that makes me uncomfortable. i suppose i should be learning how to understand my own emotions. i certainly have enough of them, and that’s hardly your fault. hell, i don’t even know why i’m writing this. it’s not like you’ll ever know what i think. i am a distant memory to you, if anything. i see you and i can tell what you're feeling. i know things will never be the same between us. you love her, and she's all that matters to you. she's all that will ever matter to you no matter what i do and no matter what i say. and even though every time i see you is a turning point in my life, it will hardly matter to yours.

i guess i should get used to that.

-M

what does love mean to you

A lot of us say that being a third party is bad, but I really beg to differ.

&I talked to someone, probably near but can't relate to, about the new love. Her new third-party love. Weird as it seems, it doesn't seem wrong. Part of me say this isn't wrong, because what we perceive True Love to be is constantly changing through experiences and interactions with others. Break-ups means that one have realised that their definition of True Love is wrong and that it have changed.

Loving is a process like growing up, it progresses. We grow up understanding more and being more arouse with surroundings. From young, we only knew Love is for the Love for basic necessity of growing up, like milk and probably the pacifier. Then we grew older by learning Love is the care and concern that parents give their child unconditionally. As we grow older, Love becomes more cliche and takes the form of simply almost anything - from holding hands to kissing to sexual.

I don't know what goes further than here, and I've yet to experience it myself. Love is just something that people sacrifice their blood and sweat to hunt for it. But in the first place, is it huntable, or has it always been there and that you just made it lost its meaning.

What does Love mean to you? Just companion or something unexplainable? Even being in a love-triangle, doesn't mean it's wrong to love. It's probably just wrong timing.

-D

let me know

fffound

i'm terrified

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I need to write. I need to write, paint, cry it all away. I've found love, as ridiculous and impossible as that is. For me, anyway. I am a cynical person. In everything and everyone, I find fault.

I believe in love, I really believe in love. But for so long I've been too cynical, too logical, too damn scared to feel it.

I don't know where to begin. It all started with a drunken kiss. But in that person I've found everything I ever dreamed of. He has an overwhelming passion for life. An artist. A dreamer. When he looks at me, it's like he's staring at the stars. He see's a beauty I can't even hope to ever see. He can look into my soul, without me saying a thing he can perfectly articulate everything I've tried so hard to hide from everyone. He can't not touch me, stroke my hand, my back.

Anyone else, I would be in heaven. I would jump in and never look back. Even typing this, I feel my happiness being crushed. He's my best friend's dad. 30 years my senior. I don't know why anyone would want to hear this, to hear about this disgusting, sordid little situation. But it's not disgusting, it's not sordid.

I've written pages upon pages of letters and confessions. Paintings, drawings, I'm trying to put it down somewhere so that I can look at it and somehow rationalize it. I've written this email a dozen times. Sometimes I say that it's just too impossible, too hard. Other's I can't imagine having to let him go.

I'm terrified. What if my life, my family and friends, all crumbles beneath me? But what if in years to come, I look back full of regret. This man truly loved me. He wanted to give me the world. And I threw it all away because of fear.

The truth is, I have no idea. But in doing this, I'm keeping him in a state of limbo that is killing him. I tried to end it, I tried to be strong. But there wasn't a single part of me that was sincere. He saw that. He didn't let go easily and now we're back where we started.

Nothing could be more beautiful and true, or more petrifying.

-M

i just wish you knew how much.

hedi

It all started one night in a dingy college bar. The typical over indulgence of alcoholic beverages, something many college students embrace with open arms. However this night was much more to me, it was the night I met you. Little did I know this would be the night that forever changed the way I looked at love. When you pulled me away from that table of overly intoxicated girls in an attempt to save me from any further agony I knew you were different. Our conversation was bleak and meaningless but it was enough to make me want more. I wanted to get to know everything there was to know about you and more.

So it began the little games we all play. Waiting two weeks to establish contact was something I thought little of at the time, because I had not discovered the truly wonderful qualities that make you so unique. From the moment I text you I could tell there was excitement on both ends of the conversation. You asking me to come play and me painfully rejecting your offers in fear you would think I was just some guy looking to get lucky. With every message I was growing more restless. Finally one night while out drinking with some friends I received a text from this new romantic interest of mine, my stomach grew queasy. I knew tonight would be the night I was go to see the girl who I found to be incredibly intriguing.

I grew nervous as I walked alone to meet you. All of this waiting has all led up to this one monument; my heart was pounding through my chest. As we make eye contact you could see the excitement on our faces. Our conversation was fueled by our intoxication instantly we both wanted each other. One thing led to another and that turned in to our first kiss. Tucked away in the corner of the dueling piano bar the world around us disappeared. This was a feeling of ecstasy I have never experienced before. I was hooked and wanted more.

It was from that moment that we shared together in the corner of the bar that I knew I wanted to pursue you. Hanging out with you became my main motivation in life. I have never felt the way I did about you. Not wanting to rush in to the sexual part of our relationship I waited for the right time and it was nothing short of perfect. You seemed so innocent, it was intriguing. It was not until the monument right before we had sex for the first time and you asked “you’re still going to like me in the morning right?” that I knew you truly cared. I was yours for the taking.

This blossomed in to an amazing relationship. Where my biggest reward was seeing you’re beautiful big brown eyes and you’re cute smile. I would do anything for you; you’re nothing short of amazing. However with our relationship came its fair share of problems.

When you drank you became hurtful to the extent I felt as if I didn’t even know you. You would blame it on you being drunk and I would accept this. Now, that I have had time to cope with our situation and our break up. I must ask did the alcohol bring out you’re true colors? Was alcohol what our relationship was based on? I find it very hard to believe you loved me the way you said you did if you can walk out on what we have built together.

Alcohol what our relationship was founded on ultimately was the demise of our relationship. Ironic I must say. This has forever destroyed any hope I once had for “love” to be found in bars. Alcohol brought out sides of us that we would never dare show in a sober state but even with this knowledge we continued to drink and drift further apart. Could it be that we love partying and alcohol more than each other? This is a thought that tears me apart inside day and night I cannot stop thinking about it. How could something that felt so right be so wrong at the same time? And why cannot I not give up and walk away? You treat me like dirt know, I cry daily but will never tell you this because of the fear you will judge me and this will only give you the upper hand in dictating the status of our relationship.

Staring at the blank screen on my phone in hopes you may text or call has driven me to my breaking point. I need to step back an catch my breath. But first you must give me back my heart which you ripped out of my chest that Friday night. I will not allow myself to be there for you, only to have you say and do horrible things to me. However after all of this and the pain you put me through why do I still love you?
I ask myself everyday where is the beautiful girl I fell so madly in love with because you surely are not her. I will forever love you because you opened up to me and let me see the person you truly are. I know who you are and this is not it to the slightest degree. I will be here with open arms when you find yourself, just don't ask me why I won't be able to answer that.

I Love you, I just wish you knew how much.

-M