i don’t really understand how i feel about you.
when i first met you, i felt such a… connection, i guess. an instant spark of recognition. they way you offered your friendship and your help without question or hesitation, the honest, unafraid way you spoke about your life and yourself. even the way you walk and dress and wear your hair and your face; everything about you feels familiar, homey.
dear little miss fake and gay
you are the worst kind of person.
the very first thing you told me about yourself when we met was how you had just gone through a period of intense depression, which resulted in you being hospitalized and you lost your last job. so what in the FUCK makes you think it’s okay to turn around, when i am going through the EXACT same thing, talk behind my back, abandon me, backstab me, and humiliate me? really? you were the one person i thought would SURELY understand what i was dealing with but i guess you don’t really give a shit about anything unless it’s all about you.
every single you said “i dont mind you venting, go ahead im here for you”, but then as soon as i started talking, you would get disinterested and immediately change the subject, usually about you and your stupid fucking “not-boyfriend”. like i give a fuck if you’re dating or not or who knows you’re dating. if it wasn’t that it was a detailed description of your fucking bowel movements for the day. okay great you have stomach problems, now GO SEE A FUCKING DOCTOR and stop bitching at me if you can’t fucking poop.
oh and by the way you don’t know ANYTHING about growing weed your plants are so fucking sad and pathetic. i grew nicer plants keeping them on my goddamn windowsill than you and your dry, cold-ass basement with no water or proper air circulation. and then to clip premature plants and dry them in the oven and smoke it all, leaves and stems and everything? dont give me your shit you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and there is NOTHING i hate more than someone who runs their fucking mouth insisting they’re right about everything when EVERYONE KNOWS YOU’RE AN IDIOT AND YOU’RE WRONG. even when i try to sneaky correct you so you save face, you call me on being stupid and tell everyone how wrong i am. good thing you have your head too far up your ass to see the looks on everyones faces as we all collectively realize how full of shit you are
oh wait now i understand
you can’t poop
hence you’re full of shit
basically a summary of your life.
have fun with that.
i have really been trying not to come on here and complain about my life
but it’s worse right now than it’s been for a long time.
and i’m not sure how capable i am of handling it right now.
i am so starved for affection and attention i feel like i have a legitimate vitamin deficiency. most people complain about being sad and lonely when they’re single; i’m in a relationship, and still sad and lonely.
“so leave him!”
well you know what they say about girls.. my proverbial CDs are in his truck.
and it’s not that he doesn’t care, at least i am pretty sure, it’s just he is so fucking bad at showing emotions and he’s so instinctively wired to ignore everything until it goes away and i cant talk to him about anything cause i always get upset and emotional and he’s like “oh there’s my queue to stop listening let me know when you’re done being a bitch”
and he always calls his friends that are girls by cute pet names and hes always so goddamn excited to see “Suhbrina” (cause she cant be fucking bothered to spell it right like who the fuck do yu think you are bitch) and i’m just sitting here like
“okay this is how you treated me before you had me… so what now that you dont have to chase me anymore im no longer important? oh cool ill just be over here working a ten hour night shift, coming home to sleep for five hours, and then getting up early to make sure i am awake to cook you A HUGE FUCKING MEAL FOR SUPPER EVER GODDAMN NIGHT cause apparenrly thats all im good for”
guh he just makes me so fucking angry but i know he is this way because of his past and he admits it and knows hes not good at changing and i don’t want to just give up on him because if we could find a way to work with each others’ weaknesses, we would be the perfect couple. i am just too insecure and scared of things to be of any interest to him right now so i just need to change every single thing about myself to mke him happy.
when the levee breaks…
it finally happened today… came home from work, and brett was still in bed. i woke him up and was so tired i didn’t even want to go back upstairs for a smoke with steve. so we laid in bed for a few minutes, and he decided not to go to his first class. he said something about letting me sleep and went to leave. something in me broke; i don’t know what or why but i just looked at him and said, “this would usually be the part where you tell me how pretty i am even though i feel like shit,” he seemed surprised for a moment, and then said “i think you’re gorgeous,” in his cute little ‘i’m going to humor your insecurities’ voice and hugged me. i felt my body began to shake, and then without a real solid thought or decision, i just started talking. i said everything i have been bottling up for the past 8 months, every mean and hurtful thing that has ever crossed my mind, all of my fears and wounds he has given me, every one of his flaws and the ways he makes me feel. i said it in a quiet, calm voice, sketching out for him the portrait of chaos my heart has become.
“my relationship with you is like giving a man dying of dehydration glasses of salt water. i keep begging for more, but every glass brings me closer to the end,”
i felt him crying against my shoulder, but i couldn’t bring myself to comfort him. the sick part is, i wanted to so desperately. i wanted to apologize for his mistakes. he raised his head and looked at me, with the strangest expression i’ve ever seen on his face: sincere anguish. “i’m sorry,” he said. my lips smiled, but my voice was hard as i replied, “are you really? have you ever really loved anyone? do you really love me?” the anger that came in to his eyes surprised me. “of course i have, and of course i do. it’s one of the only emotions i am ever sure of in my mind. i can feel that, and i know it’s real. i know i love you,” i was scared for a moment that i had pushed him too far, and felt guilty for taking cheap shots.
you have to understand something at this point. all of the pain, and anger, and unfairness and confusion and everything else going on in my head still didn’t overpower the love i felt and still feel for him. this wasn’t about giving up or ending the relationship or anything, nor did i expect him to immediately change and everything be sunshine and rainbows. that’s not how it works. but i needed to say these things; i needed to make him understand that me having a mental breakdown every month and him responding by nodding and smiling blankly until i was done ranting, telling me everything i wanted to hear, and then going on as normal was not how i wanted this relationship to be. i explained to him how i was trying to change literally every facet of my life in order to make him—and myself, don’t worry—happy, and how i didn’t understand how he, as a student of psychology, could sit there and be so content with his disorders and defense mechanisms and living the way he had since highschool, with the same group of friends from hishschool, who were all content to stay the dysfunctional group they were. i cannot heal in a place where everyone loves having their wounds as an excuse to act the way they do. i cannot grow in a place where dead rot and weeds are encouraged, where old broken things are kept for nothing but nostalgic value.
i cannot be this person anymore and my heart is broken because i thought he, of all people, would be the one to finally help me, and he let me down.
so the words have been said. i cannot take them back, and i feel infinitely lighter for it. i slept a deep sleep after he left and woke up feeling very calm. unfortunately it’s the false come that i feel when i get so over-emotional that my emotions just shut off, but it will keep me going for the night and tomorrow we can talk for real. he seemed very sincere; i have only ever seen him cry one other time and it took a very serious matter indeed for that to happen, so to see that i could make him feel even that much was a sign of proof in my eyes at least.
i suppose all i can do now is wait and see. i was distant with him tonight but he accepted it; he cooked supper, got me energy drinks, and was very attentive. however this is the pattern of all our little ‘spats’, and i am worried nothing will have changed by tomorrow. but i have to trust him. i have to have more faith in him than he does himself, or this will never work.
i do not want to lose him, but at what point does Lana Del Ray become incorrect? his happiness is paramount to my own…. but my own happiness does still count. it’s a fine line. i hope i don’t fall on the wrong side…
in response to a post i only recently saw…
you know that awkward moment in high school when you just had a huge falling out with your best friend and then you finally bump in to them in the hall and you have to walk by like they’re a complete stranger and you don’t care, and you’re totally not fighting off the urge to fling your arms around them and tell them they’re pretty or something, but you can’t do that because that would be admitting you were wrong and you were NOTwrong and it’s not fair and then you make eye contact for like half a second and your heart breaks all over again but you have to just keep walking and desperately hope someone else starts talking to you so you can prove you don’t need them?
unfortunately, i’ve never known how to forget. i don’t know how to let go, and moving on is a mystery to me. i know it’s a fault. and as good as your intentions are, as much as this is probably going to ruin everything, i have to say it—your forgiveness means less to me than your apology would. i’m not saying i don’t need forgiving. i fucked up i get it. but you are DEFINITELY not innocent and i am not just talking about this recent incident either. i have NEVER received an apology from you, for any of the shit you’ve put me through. instead you just acted like everything was perfectly okay and i fucking stupidlychose to play along.
that being said i won’t lie for a second. i fucking miss you so much it hurts, every single goddamn day. do you know how hard it is to talk to you like we are passing acquaintances how much it hurts every day when i see something i desperately want to share with you, but i’m so scared to let you get close again i just don’t bother? and, selfishly yes, but most of all, i am so goddamn lonely. you were literally my best friend. i loved having you around all the time and hanging out and doing nothing and partying and being able to just exist and not have to worry about stupid shit like being judged or looking stupid.
when we were good, my god were we good… but when we were bad… we were very bad indeed. and i don’t like that. i can’t have that in my life. you got mad because i spoke my feelings and i was honest with you, and you said you didn’t want my attitude in your life. well now i’m saying the same to you. the person you were—i dont know if you’ve changed at all—is not someone i can be around. you have to understand, i can not say no to you. everything i did was my choice, and that is the argument for why it’s my fault, but i don’t think it’s fair that you get to use one half of your problems—i’m so stressed and depressed and i need good vibes and people who love me and tell me what i want to hear—in order to get what you want, but the other half of your problems—manipulating others, powers of persuasion, emotional abuse and disregard for anyone elses’ feelings—goes unmentioned, and the victims of said acts are treated like the criminals.
i am aware i’m doing that thing where i’m making you out to be the bad guy again and i’m trying not to, i really am. i’m just tired of being told that everything is my fault and i want to make it clear that i am going to speak my feelings, i will be honest and blunt, i will not sugarcoat and say whatever people want to hear. and anyone who cannot deal with that, should not try to be part of my life.
am the epitome of pathetic.
i am that girl that looks through your old photos, wondering why you won’t take silly pictures with me like you did with her. i am the one who looks up their name, examines their face, and measures each and every way i will never be as pretty or fun or smart or cool as they were. i am the one who has the mindset of “well he fucked up with her so he settled for me,” even though you broke up almost two years before you met me. i worry and stress over and analyze every minuscule way i might not be meeting your expectations, what i could be doing better, what i could be doing to make you smile like you do in your old photos. i will never be special enough. i will never be the one you secretly plan a future with. i will never be the one who has your whole attention the moment i walk in a room. you will never turn to your friends, point at me and go “yeah shes mine,” i will never inspire you to write love songs, i will never have a romantic movie moment with you, and you will never pour your soul out to me like you have never done before.
because i am just plain unremarkable me. you will laugh and smile and call me pretty and hold my hand, but i will never have your full attention. you will listen to my problems and teach me interesting facts, but i will never reach any level higher than any other lady in your life—in fact i will always be below a few of them.
because i am just me. i’m sorry.