lost my mind in the spring, got drunk more days than not, barely graduated, fucked the boy who broke me in a million pieces because i felt nothing, made a lot of fair-weather friends, did a lot of stupid things, but then i met you and now you are all i see.

some days i question it. i worry myself to death thinking i've made the wrong decisions, second guessing it all, thinking it over, over thinking it. but then i am next to you and my head is going up and down on your chest with the rhythm of your breathing and i don't care. my life was a mess and you were the solid piece of ground that i was begging for in my heart every single day. you are so good to me. finally, FINALLY i get what i deserve.

i tell my self to stop worrying and i do, when i think of you.

we all want to do it. write something so incredibly beautiful and breath-taking. something that everyone can read over and over again and relate to, because it feels good when people relate to you. because then you're not alone and you're not crazy. but, i don't know. i kind of like being crazy, being different. i like thinking that no one is like me. even though it feels lonely sometimes.

i feel different. it's strange, walking around without all of that sadness crushing my bones. i had an identity crisis and dyed my hair blond. i left you then went back to you then left you then went back to you then left you again. it's so much easier being the one that leaves. now i understand why you always did it. now i want to hang out with new boys, boys who's pasts aren't haunted, and sneak into their friend's mansion-basement and smoke weed with them and be light. float float float.

i got so sad and stopped going to school. now i'm better and i'm back.

being happy without you is like the biggest "fuck you" of all. so, fuck you.

but as for now, the ache in my chest won't disappear.

you called today and came over to "talk". that lasted about ten minutes until our clothes were off. afterward, i felt used and yes, i cried and yes, you comforted me which is twisted in it's own way. you left and went to look at a house you might move into and then went to the job you just got and texted me later and said you don't want to talk to me anymore. no, i didn't cry but i feel something much deeper than sadness. it aches and it aches and it aches.

for you, i opened my chest and bared everything. fuck what i learned, fuck the experiences. i loved and lost, and no it's not any better than to have never loved at all.

you'll be back anyways. you always come back. but i don't want you anymore.

thanks for the MIP and the black eye, by the way.

last night while desperate for some sort of solitude, i let my mother try to comfort me. she touched my face and kept rubbing her fingers over the spot where your elbow slammed into my face (whether you did it on purpose, or not, is still a question in my head) and i tried my best not to flinch because i didn't want her to know. she told me i need to stop acting so grown up. i thought to myself that it's not an act. i had to grow up the first time my dad touched me the wrong way, i had to grow up when i was sitting in a doctor's office being told i will be living with a disease for the rest of my life, i had to grow up when i was drunk on an apartment floor while a liar was forcing himself into me, i had to grow up the first time my mother called me a whore, i had to grow up everytime someone i loved broke my heart and everytime i had to pick myself up off of rock bottom and convince myself i have a reason to keep going.

i am alone.

can somebody please just save me.