"And you got to throw me out like the trash that I used to have to beg you to throw out when we lived together."
I don’t care that you got into drugs for three months straight, or how much sleep you lost in that period. I don’t care that you went home and fucked that person and woke up at 6am hating everything about yourself, or that you smoked so much you sounded as though your lungs were giving out.
You’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.
You’re just human, and being human means you need to survive and you do so whichever way you deem fit, fuck everyone else.
"you’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness"
I’ve always had a bad habit of throwing myself into people and things. I realize I write when I’m falling apart or falling in love. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m kind of a mess. Definitely a mess. I’ve accepted that Victor and I are over. It still hits me sometimes that it’s officially done, and how fucked up he was to just delete me and all of our pictures. Mostly because I kept them up for so long because I was the one in denial and trying to make things work but for what? He only showed me effort when it was convenient for him. When he wanted to. He loved me so much when he wanted to and I loved him when I didn’t want to. How is that fair? I’m glad it’s over. Now there are no more games, no more questions, no more begging him to fucking text me back. God. Everyday it felt like a roller coaster and all I wanted to do was get off, and he pushed me. It hurt but I wouldn’t have gone unless he did. So I’m thankful he set me free.
I’ve been painting my room. Well, priming. I only have a corner of it left to prime then I can paint. Vic dropped off paint brushes and primer because I think he’s trying to convince himself that he’s a good guy, and I noticed the shades of mint from our old living room and the blue from our bedroom on the handle. It stopped me for a second, my breath caught in my throat, but I kept painting. I had to get rid of the lime green. It had been that color for years and I couldn’t look at it anymore. It reeked of Victor and Gabe and all the friends I had in my old life. I’m excited for the blank slate that is my room. I plan on leaving the state within the year. I’m excited for that, too.
I saw Gabe. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t. He walked to my door like he always does, we fought like we always do, we laughed while we fought. It felt nice. But it wasn’t good. Now I’m even more confused. I just got my heart broken and all Gabe wants to do is mend it. A couple of weeks ago he called me while I was ripping through my things and crying over Victor, and he just stayed on the phone and listened. He gave me advice and made me laugh. He was always my best friend, always looking out for my best interest.
And this is the mess that is my life.
People come into your life all the time some harder the others and some come in so hard so fast that they leave this kind of feeling inside you, leave you feeling feelings you never thought you’d feel because they just came into your life so how can they affect you that much? But they do.. Some…
"this person was a tornado when you thought they were the sun." Beautiful.