*Will*&*Grace*

You know when you’re in the super shitty, nonstop fighting and screaming relationship and every second you wish it’d just stop? The horrible names, the snapping over small stuff, throwing and slamming everything just so they can feel some of your hate. You just so bad want them to grab you and hold you so you can tell them, “I’m sorry, I suck, you suck, but I love you and I’ll never leave you, I’ll do my best to always consider you and support you. I’m gunna fail and it’ll hurt but I won’t leave. I’ll love you my best forever. I’ll wake you up with blowjobs and joints and breakfast. I’ll clean and quit crying. I won’t smoke so much pot or be such a worthless cunt. I’ll take the girls to stupid ballet and go to pta meetings. I’ll fill your pipe and sell your whatever. I’ll do whatever if you please quit fucking telling me how much you hate me”

I’m not a victim or criminal; just a cunt I guess

Then one day you’re sitting with them in the steamy bathroom a couple years down the road. After blood, black eyes, busted faces, seas of tears and losing family, friends, cars and houses, still dying to be with them. Never feeling okay without them like a fucking gaping hole in your gut growing every second.

Between different people, places, chemicals and reasons, you always still need each other.

Then you’re sitting in a fucking motel 6 streaming bathroom after finally getting to be alone with them and the silence is so loud it hurts.

I wish this dude would sock me in my jaw; atleast I’d feel something from him.

The emptiness and lack of love or emotion is worse than any horrible name or stupid whore or drug.

I’d fucking kill to have this man pick me up and hold me and say I’m so lucky I got you like he used to. I’d kill to have a conversation he’s actually interested in. Shit id pay him to smack me around and tell me im a stupid bitch

We bleached ourselves of each other. Numb. Nothing.

I’m sorry. For whatever I’ve done said or thought. I’m sorry I love you. Sorrier you loved me.

Fuck. It’s over.