mermaidmarion

amarnos a media velocidad

the awful truth is that you can no longer go on because you don't know how to love your body, because you can't avoid still seeing the outline of his lips in your shoulders or the grip of his hands on your hips or the shadows of his gaze on your lips or the cold of his breath in your throat or the clouds of his cigarette in your hair or the hum of his voice between your thighs or the broadness of his back pressed against your chest or the indents of his arms in your skin or the cracks in your bones that you can't hold together or the burn marks in your collarbone that eat you alive or the claw marks in your eyes from when he left

they tell you to fill your time with things and focus on your work to stop missing him. and the fact is that you do and the awful thing is that deep inside you do it hoping that it will somehow bring him back to you with time.. that being busy is just a way of letting time pass until you kiss him again. the problem is that time passes and the fact is that you realize he’s not coming back and the horrid truth is that he is very much not missing you nor thinking about you.

i remember the times i only could laugh when i drank. now all i seem to do when i have a drink is to weep and wrap my arms around me to hold myself together. because time doesn't fucking heal and holy fuck what doesn't kill you doesn't make you fucking stronger. what doesn't kill you makes you wish it had.