who knows. i’ve been eating doritos for every other meal and trying to focus on the positive. i’ve already cut off three inches from my hair. it’s probably silly to even think about this anymore but - i regret every instance i assumed i’d have more time. each moment i said “i’ll see them later”, each moment i wanted a hand to hold but didn’t want to be too overwhelming, each put-off hello text and cancelled activity. i didn’t know it would be the last time for a long time, that’s all. i would have eaten more or stayed longer or sang louder or … i don’t know. i know i was always supposed to be stewing in the moments because they could be gone - but it didn’t feel real, you know?
and i should have told you. why was i so shy. what good moment was i waiting for. i spent so long just looking at you, aching, wondering what was going on between us and if it was real or if it was made up in my head or if i should just kiss you and be done with it. we could be lying in the same bed. gently telling the other person. i’ll be here until it’s over or until the world ends. one and the same thing, i guess.
i didn’t know. i would have taken a better picture or smiled at each person or just. lived a little bigger, maybe. i have been doing tiny workouts on my floor thinking about all the times i skipped going to the gym. i’ve been staring at the blank page of my homework thinking about how i complained about having to drag myself out of bed to get to campus. how much these things seem like luxuries now. how guilty i am for not knowing how to enjoy everything i was tasting. i know i have mental illness. i know i tried to do as best i could despite it. but i also just wish… i don’t know. that’d i’d been a little bit better, i guess.
amandla
baratheonpilled
romaincrisis
