no dope. no hope.

"Could I be important enough not to get randomly broken for fun?"

I know a lot of people talk big about how abusive people cannot love you while abusing you but honestly, at this point, I really don't think it matters. What difference does it make if they love me? It still hurts. It's still wrong. It's still abusive and people pointing out how they love me [in defense of their actions] is still a manipulative tactive meant to force me to forgive them/let them continue/ect.

Victims Of Love

Addiction.

i think she realized if we stayed together

The only thing strong about me is my tolerance to drugs haha

I wanted very much not to be where I was. In fact part of the trouble seemed to be that where I was wasn’t anywhere at all. My life felt empty and unreal and I was embarrassed about its thinness, the way one might be embarrassed about wearing a stained or threadbare piece of clothing. I felt like I was in danger of vanishing, though at the same time the feelings I had were so raw and overwhelming that I often wished I could find a way of losing myself altogether, perhaps for a few months, until the intensity diminished. If I could have put what I was feeling into words, the words would have been an infant’s wail: I don’t want to be alone. I want someone to want me. I’m lonely. I’m scared. I need to be loved, to be touched, to be held. It was the sensation of need that frightened me the most, as if I’d lifted the lid on an unappeasable abyss.

What does it feel like to be lonely? It feels like being hungry: like being hungry when everyone around you is readying for a feast. It feels shameful and alarming, and over time these feelings radiate outwards, making the lonely person increasingly isolated, increasingly estranged. It hurts, in the way that feelings do, and it also has physical consequences that take place invisibly, inside the closed compartments of the body. It advances, is what I’m trying to say, cold as ice and clear as glass, enclosing and engulfing.

It’s about wanting and not wanting: about needing people to pour themselves out into you and then needing them to stop, to restore the boundaries of the self, to maintain separation and control. It’s about having a personality that both longs for and fears being subsumed into another ego; being swamped or flooded, ingesting or being infected by the mess and drama of someone else’s life, as if their words were literally agents of transmission.

Fuck you, goodluck

Truth is that the heart needs more forms of love from your partner than just romantic love. It needs the nurturing and unconditional love like the one that comes from a parent. It needs the love that helps you achieve your maximum potential, that empowers your virtues and is patient with your flaws like that of a teacher. It needs the love of a friend who will listen without judgment, who will laugh with you and be your confidant and accomplice. It needs the devoted love of a healer who will tend to your wounds and hurts and never turn a blind eye to your suffering but rather help the healing process knowing all the time the healing and the timing is all yours. Love is more than just romance and passion, and sooner or later it will die out if you do not nurture all the other faces of love. For if love has a thousand faces, how bland would it be if my love for you were the same one all the time.