"be silly. be honest. be kind. " - Emerson

I knew I matured when I realized every situation doesn’t need a reaction. Sometimes you just have to leave people to continue to do the lame shit that they do.

I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.

I used to fall asleep screaming your name at the ceiling. I would cry until I was choking and clawing at my chest, trying to rip my heart out so I wouldn’t have to feel like dying all the time. I felt everything and it was killing me. Oh god I didn’t want to feel it. I didn’t want to feel the empty space in bed next to me where you should’ve been. I didn’t want to feel your lips lingering on my neck even though it’s been four months since you’d bothered calling me. And then suddenly it’s the middle of January, 6 months since you accidentally broke my heart in the door when you shut it a little too hard and decided you didn’t love me anymore. And I’m shaking from the cold and I’m shaking because everything fucking hurts. and then I see you in the corner, and it’s the first time I’ve seen you since that fucking night. And you’re with her. And you’re grabbing at her the way you used to grab me. And you’re kissing her like you’re on fire and she’s the only thing that can put you out. And I lost my breath. And you looked up from her mouth and saw me standing there and looked away and I drove home swerving off the road. After that it all shut down. I didn’t feel anything anymore and jesus fuck I miss the days when I felt like everything inside me was crashing into each other and whispering your name. It’s like I was dead. I think you killed me. So I’ve been splitting open my skin because I thought if enough blood poured out of me maybe I would wake the fuck up and clean up the mess but I never did. I just sort of sat there drowning in myself. I want it all back. I want my mother shaking me in the middle of the night asking me why I was crying in my sleep. I want to look at old pictures of you and throw up every last bit of my bleeding heart. Anything would be better than this cold.

Please don’t forget. We’ll ignore one another’s existence. We’ll be assholes towards each other. We’ll avoid our true intimate thoughts. We’ll disregard the past. Just promise me you won’t forget me. That glimpse of me that you saw. Yes, the real me. Promise you won’t forget.

I was ready to love the whole world, but no one understood me, and I learned to hate.