a lot of the time i actually forget that i ran away from home at 17, after years of trying, escaping my toxic and abusive stepfather. sometimes i forget that i did my hsc with cuts on my wrist after my friend committed suicide on the first day, after years when i’d sat with her in the school counsellor’s office talking through her trauma. i forget that i uprooted my life to live with my dad at a pivotal point, and i am actually so lucky that i could even do that, even though i didnt feel welcome and i was worried by his pot smoking. i forget all the weird transient shit i did as a teen, partially because i wanted to experience things but also because i never wanted to be home, because nobody loved me, not my mother, my father, my sister. every time i have a break up i take it so hard and sometimes i wonder if i would have this insane fear of being completely unlovable if my life had been different, maybe if things were different i could say goodbye to someone after six weeks of feeling connected and not worry that the world was ending, maybe i could get used to this idea that the big thing i always foresaw for me is never going to happen, there isnt going to be this point where you suddenly meet someone who can love you enough, because no one can, and thats not even a bad thing, but you need to find a way to make up that love from somewhere because otherwise you are going to spend your life periodically reduced to a crying shaking mess when you get panicked about these things
areudirty
romaincrisis
vaporwave
jbbartram-illu
titsay
yousharknotpass
jacobvanloon
prguitarman
theartofmadeline
