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disorganised thoughts from a careless mind.


faggulicious
Community Member
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if there's anything left of my heart, i don't want it.
dear my-special-k-not-sure-what-to-call-you,

well it's not past midnight in December. and i'm not crying [yet]. and it hasn't been one year and four months since i was defenestrated again. but i'm still hurting. and my heart is still broken. i'm still empty and too full and making no sense. i'm still sobbing little lullabies at night while my heart attempts to heal itself. it's not very good at it.

i should start by saying i'm angry. i'm angry that you said so many things to me. i'm angry because you held me tight enough i thought for sure i was going to hold on. i'm angry because you healed me. i'm just so angry because you left. there's sadness in there, too. there is a lot of sadness packed in the anger. sometimes it takes over. most of the time, actually. but the anger is what gets me up in the morning. the anger is what makes me want to smile. all the sadness does is make me cry. all it does is make lay in bed all day trying to dream of anything but you.

i started to sing last night. i was signing while i was crying and i was wondering if you would think it was beautiful [probably not]. i never got a chance to sing to you, but would have you just lied and said you liked it? would have you let me believe that too, and would have i gotten the idea to sing to a crowd and have them laugh? because that's what you did with my heart. you let me believe that maybe i could love, maybe someone could love me. and i went off smiling all my days and colouring in my hearts only to be humiliated and ashamed when it was all a decorated lie.

i remember when you first messaged me one night. i was struck with insomnia by w, struck so hard my dreams would always turn into nightmares. so i gave up sleeping that night. and then i got a message from you, telling me that you're sorry it was a random stranger adding me but you just thought i was so beautiful. even my cracked lips smiled when you said that. that was my first mistake. i remember you opened up to me so easily, telling me about a bad sexual experience with someone you were with. i'm not even sure i remember how the conversation went, but eventually once the clock hit five a.m. i kept closing my eyes. i wanted to fight it. i wanted to fight finally sleeping in favour of talking to you. i suppose that was my second mistake.

i remember when you didn't matter much to me. you were someone that wanted to talk to me, and i was always so empty enough that i would. and the minutes would turn into hours and the hours would turn into days and the days into weeks and i was smiling again. but then you stopped responding to me, which didn't matter then, and i forgot about you. it was so easy that time.

but you came back. you came back without any intentions and i had none myself. i'm not even sure how i started to actually have feelings for you. it was almost like one day i was fine and the next morning i woke up and went 's**t.' and i was foolish enough to believe you felt the same somewhere in there. i ignored what you said about not wanting anyone because for just a second i thought i meant enough to you to make a difference. this would be filed under one of my many mistakes with you.

another was actually meeting you. there is a reason i stay so secluded, you know. i stay secluded because the real me [and this is the real me - crazy to the bone marrow] is ugly and unwanted. all my flaws are glaring in person and i've never been good at hiding how i feel. i'm quiet and i stutter and i talk too much and i hate every moment of existing. being in person with someone has always been too exhausting and not worth it. but i jumped the bridge with you. and apparently the bridge was too high since now i can't get back up. but that's not the real point. the real point was i decided i was ready to show you all my flaws and my heart actually started to beat efficiently when you said i was lovely. my heart is weak, just in case you can't tell.

i was doing so fine without you. well i wasn't actually fine. i was miserable. i was empty and crying and clawing at my insides from the outside. but i was alone. i didn't have anyone to try and help or someone to tell me i was beautiful. i didn't have anyone to hurt me, is the better way to put it. and for some reason i decided this wasn't enough. that, here, this is someone who wants me. here is someone who has put up with me. here is someone to love me.

i was so wrong. and it's been a long time since i've been so wrong. a long, long time. see, technically i wasn't wrong with w. i was so right in the beginning that it hurt. we melted together so easily and it was so wonderful being right. no, i was only wrong in the end. and my heart is used to endings. but not when there was never a beginning.

i'm not even sure you're reading this. i bet not. because, see, there is something in me that makes me easy to forget. there is something in me that makes it so everyone can walk away and not feel any regret. or if there is any, it's forgotten within days. there is something i try to find by cutting into my skin that makes it so i don't matter. i just don't. no one has ever felt bad after leaving me. everyone breathes again and thinks 'that was easy'. and i am. i'm easy. easy to please. easy to ********. easy to leave behind. and i was foolish to think you were somehow different.

and i really thought you were different. you were the first person in years that i fell for that wasn't twice my age. you were so close in so many ways that i thought it would all work. you weren't two thousand miles away. you weren't twice my age. you weren't someone who would abuse me. no, you were something maybe near perfection, though i know by now that perfection is flawed and imperfect all on its own. but the fact remains. my mother liked you. my bird liked you. my dad liked you. i liked you. these were all things that made me brave enough to fall for you. i should learn there is a reason i grew up a coward.

none of my other friends have cared, you know. no one has come up to me asking if i'm okay. everyone seems to think i'll be fine, that i haven't carved my legs like pumpkins or my arms like a tree. that i haven't hit myself enough on my arm that it looks like a little purple Africa has bloomed there. that i didn't try to drink a whole glass of salt water to rid myself of my feelingsstomach contents [it didn't work]. see, i am truly alone. i was before too. no one cared before, but you. and it was a strange feeling, being cared for. though apparently it was fake so perhaps that was it.

i bet there are errors and grammatical things you don't like. things you'll subconsciously edit out. i remember sending you my little s**t stories, liking the fact someone really wanted to read them. my excuse was that i wanted you to edit them, but in fact i wanted someone to like them, so that i wouldn't think all those hours of typing and destroying my hands were a waste [they ended up being anyways]. no one ever really wanted to read anything of mine past the first preview before. it was such a lovely feeling. i'm not good with those.

see, there was something about you. something about the way you stood or the way you laughed or the way you actually cared that made me think i could fit with you. i was so blinded by my fall i didn't even notice that you never caught me. i was so happy with all the lies i thought up that i never expected you to leave. not like that. not ever. not yet.

i'm crying now. but it's not midnight. but i'm so alone. i'm so, so alone. i'm so empty. i don't know what to do with myself, so i don't do anything at all. i go to work and i follow my family around but i don't smile. i don't laugh. i don't ever look at my phone anymore [it's so quiet these days]. and i'm sobbing really, loudly. because i'm the only one home. i'm truly alone right now and it hurts so much it burns my esophagus when i try to breathe.

so i guess this is me saying my last words to you. i won't bother you after this, i really won't. so if you actually read it i suppose you have my thanks. i still don't know what to call you. i don't say your name anymore. i don't mention you in conversation. i'm still angry that you're gone. that you made no attempt to stay, but can i blame you?

i thought i was done with this. i guess i wasn't. i have more to say i think, but it's hard to type with tears in your eyes and when your whole body is shaking. you've proven to me i'm not worth saving. you've proven to me that i should just give up. you've proven to me i'm a fool and i should just stay alone. i thought i had a poetic way to end this. i don't.

perhaps i never wanted this to end.

always,
the-broken-still-not-broken-enough-to-be-beautiful-girl.

p.s.
at least you never lost my favourite sweater.




 
 
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