Jules ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

I have spent ALL of today just thinking and pondering (aka being depressed and HATING myself) but boy have I made some discoveries

First and foremost I am likely to give up on the gorilla seeing as even amongst mixed signals a girl can take a hint. This is also because of crippling guilt and disgust of how I could possibly DARE to put someone through the displeasure of me having feels for them as I am awfully pathetic and unbearable in such a state.

I’ve also come to the conclusion that the reason I seem to be so unfortunate in all of my romantic endeavors is that I simply get much too in my own head (shocker it’s almost like there is mental illness there or something) and I end up ruining things by thinking way too much and convincing myself that I am scum which is super duper fun!! With the first bf I was convinced that it was my fault that he never spoke to me and I tried so hard to be such a good girlfriend that I likely freaked him out and scared him off. With the second, he was so kind and overly clingy to the point where I convinced myself that I was underserving and got to the point where I was sick every time he touched me (which MAY relate to the sa bit but who knows)(sarcastic btw) and then I ended up turning super duper evil and insane so that he’d break up with me because I didn’t think he deserved for me to break up with him which generally just made things so much worse. Now this time with this new interest of doom and agony, I find myself interpreting everything as some sort of signal and flipping from “omg wait I might have such a chance” to “holy shit no why are you a horrible person he would NEVER” at least twice a week so I fear that the only options are to act upon it and be that horrible disgusting friend who’s like “eheh.. my crush? you know they reeeeaaaallly well ;) :3” and possibly ruin the entire friendship or sit and suffer and wait for it to go away. Like the answer is very clear because I’d rather I suffer than he does it’s not even a question.

But anyways the hopeless romantic weird mentally ill freak (yours truly) is straight losing her shit as she so often does because believe me nobody wants me to go and confess to the fella as much as I do (except maybe you big fallonious) but simultaneously nobody wants me to stfu and let this hell end as much as I do

He is a foot away from me and I can smell the faint scent of decay. I reach to take my paper back from his hands and they seem slim. He has always had slim hands, but as I look at them now they are only bones. I remember how they had felt in mine what seems to have been years ago, how he used to be warm with life, but as I pull the paper from his hands I find they are cold.

We lock eyes during a love song and I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile, but it was hard to tell from where I sat. He was directly across from me, front and center in the audience, looking up with those wiry fingers laced together. It could have just been the light reflecting from his glasses, but he could have been laughing at me.

I find myself haunted by something in the skin of the man I had loved. To everyone else, this is simply just what happens when one grows older, but to me, it all feels so wrong. I refuse to accept that the rotting corpse before me is the same boy who had been so lively. I refuse to accept that we all die someday.

Cold, still, and bland

She had so much life ahead

Now there’s only the twitch of her hand

Once, she had been my reason

Why I’d wake up each morning

But, in some foul sort of treason,

She’s left me sitting here mourning

Across from me, her step-mother

Commenting on her greasy hair

While there lays my dying lover

Skin slowly growing more fair

The color has long since left her

A sickly pale all that’s remains

I’ve sat here, naively hoping she’d stir

Though my optimism gradually wanes

She had used to sing sweet melody

Her voice with the warmth of full choir

Now she lays a foot from me

Fair skin split open by wire

She had once meant everything to me

The only factor I knew of for my uncertain future

But now, I don’t think that I’ll ever see

Her face again, unobstructed by suture

The girl I loved is dead, ripped away by neglect

I hear her monitor cry a flatline

Never to be remembered for her intellect

Nor how her hands fit in mine

The girl I loved is dead, her room now bare

Save for her step mother, lawyer on the line

And as I turn to leave, I can’t help but stare

As she try’s to say that the fault is mine

That’s when I saw him… the evil truther guy

WRONG

to love is to look at someone and do everything in your power to help make their life better, to do whatever you can do to help them achieve their goals, and to support them, even if this means forcing yourself to change or let go

my boy my sweet boy

he’s so perfect

just look at him 🫪

You are a glass on a foldout table

Surrounded by red solo cups

While everyone else’s drink needs a label

In order to prevent mix ups

From a distance, you seemed plastic too

Lacking that characteristic shine

Seeming to be one of those items who

Liked to masquerade as something fine

But as I tapped you with a spoon

I heard that simple tink

Which, when paired with a glint in the moon,

Showed there’s more to you than one’d think

So that night, the glass came home with me

Tucked snugly away in my purse

Taken from someone and quick to flee

From treatment that had been much worse

When I set the glass on my counter

I saw it badly scratched

What had you have had to encounter

To leave you damaged and unpatched?

Part of your neck had been cracked

Likely from being held too tight

As I looked more closely, I saw light refract

From the bountiful imperfections in sight

For the next few months, I used that glass

Careful to not make a mistake

Hoping that with enough care, I’d bypass

How this cup seemed fated to break

Then one day, I nearly dropped it

Quickly dropping to snatch

That beautiful cup before it went to the void

Behind the trash compactor hatch

I didn’t touch it for the next week

Hoping that somehow it’d recover

Before finally mustering the courage to peek

Into my cabinet with the care of a lover

You were once a glass in my cabinet

Though now you are shining shards

You used to be something beautiful yet

Now you’ll littering frat house yards