Me too.

The ending happens suddenly

Awakened from the blackout

He leaves and you are left—

Wondering, blaming, maybe even waiting

And him?

Still drunk off the night’s conquest

High fived from his boys for tapping that mess

Surrounded by crowds

While you’re left all alone

Looks of pity or a solid scold

He won.

It’s done.

There’s no use in speaking.

He will move on.

There will be another beginning.

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Poison

The alcohol running through our veins wasn’t enough fuel to keep us going.

Which sucks, because I miss you and even though I can still pour vodka down my throat—I’ll never be able to look into those deep blue, intoxicating eyes of yours as I do it.

But, toxicity can only last so long before you start to feel your insides decaying.

I just couldn’t help myself. You were drawing me in like a scented candle with your dangerous flame. A run from responsibilities, an escape from the world, a distraction from pain.

That’s exactly what you were—a distraction from pain, yet a source to it as well.

Making me feel both needed and unwanted, the cause to a tear jerking laugh and breathtaking sob in a single moment, both a heartwarming presence and a cold shoulder.

It’s the type of indulgence you can mistake for love, because you crave their good so desperately when you’ve experienced their bad. You mistake it for love, because you have found comfort in knowing someone is just as destructive as you are. You mistake it for love, because you have not yet learned what love really is.

I was mistaken, because even though you could make me the happiest—you could tear my heart to pieces in one second, with one word, with one look.

And you did, you always did.

I thought you were an escape from the dark world around me, until I started to realized my time with you was only adding onto the dimming view I used to perceive it.

When you’re in a toxic relationship, it’s difficult to see. It’s when others start to point it out for you that you try to alter your perspective. I looked myself in the mirror and managed to finally notice the wear and tear the relationship brought upon me.

I wanted to love you. I wanted to savor our relationship, but I also wanted to save myself from loving someone who could never properly love me in return. When I finally spoke my feelings out loud, the words felt like ash on my tongue. The fire we created was dying out and that’s all that was left of us—a pile of ashes and burns all over our skin.

I realized that a soul can’t be fixed by another that is in the same broken condition.

The poison only spreads.

That’s the thing though—people like us are used to pain. If anything, we embrace it. It’s the fuel that keeps us going. It’s the drive that takes us to our destinations. We mistake hurt for healing, breaking as building, suffocating as living and leaving for loving.

Maybe leaving you was the best influence I could be, because our impact when together was fueled with whiskey, cigarettes and loud music that wouldn’t allow us to think. We communicated through coping mechanisms, through escapes, through our pain.

I wish it wasn’t that way. I wish I could’ve helped you grow, because I knew you could. You can see so much potential in those you love, but it doesn’t mean you know how to help them reach it. I know you can do great things, but no longer can I hold myself back in attempt to make that happen.

Because, I’m still broken too. I need to heal too. Two people who know nothing of healing can not repair together. Two people with poison filling their veins and toxins steering their minds will only feed off of those addictions.

It sounds so deadly as I type the words, but in a way we were.

 

 

 

Playing in the Dark

I looked at him slyly as he laughed at my suggestion.

“Are you serious?” He questioned with disbelief. He gave me that look, the one that always made me feel like the innocent teenage girl I was supposed to be. 

It stemmed from having certain expectations of me, ones I’d always break. To my father, I wore too much eyeliner. To my teachers, my attendance was low. To the girls at school, I smelled of smoke. To my advisors, I hung out with the wrong crowd. To the others, I was socially awkward. The look was always the same–those pitying eyes paired with a soft smile that said “you can do better”. 

All I wanted to do was destroy it. I grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt, rolling it up passed my head to reveal the small, black push up bra I was wearing underneath. I knew it was cold, but the drugs pumping through my blood created some kind of barrier for me. I couldn’t feel the breeze, only an on going rush that fueled a flame inside me.

“Blondie’s getting naked!” One of the boys behind us called out. I stared into Kevin’s now widened, light brown eyes, exposed by the flickering street lamp that hovered above us. Everywhere else was dark besides where the two of us stood, vulnerable to the group of friends who sat at the picnic table deep within the back of the park.

“You’re crazy,” Kevin shook his head, yet he took off his large white t-shirt at the same time. I grabbed the zipper of my jeans only to be stopped by Kevin’s firm grip around my wrist, “I don’t want them seeing you.”

I followed Kevin’s glare and looked over to where the back tables were supposed to be, but all I saw were shadows. I just smiled and waved towards the empty abyss as Kevin pulled me out from under the light.

“Ay! What the hell, Kevin?” I heard someone call out in disappointment as Kevin and I walked toward the empty field. Once again, I started unzipping my jeans, throwing my shirt onto the grass. I felt Kevin’s arm reach around my waist to pull me against his own. He was already stripped down to his boxers and I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“You got stripped down pretty quickly,” I turned around to face him, still being held firmly by his strong arms. Even though I couldn’t quite make them out in the darkness, I imagined his freckles spread out on top of his shoulders that then sprinkled down to his large biceps. Tracing the potential marks on his arms with my fingers, I remained silent. With nothing but the clicking of sprinkler nozzles making noises behind us, I was trying to figure out how it was that I could feel so safe, yet held captive at the same time.

“Take your pants off already,” He said playfully while helping me pull down my jeans to my ankles so that I could step out of them, sliding off my sandals in the process. I was standing in front of him with just a bra and thong, looking back up into his eyes that I could hardly see as my own started adjusting to the darkness.

“Let’s go!” I exclaimed as soon as I could visualize where to run. I pulled away from him as I headed for the middle of the field, still at a loss of my senses. Seeing close to nothing, I focused on the feeling of soaked mud in the grass seep through my toes. As soon as the air around me became misty, I put my arms up so I could touch the drops of water from the sprinklers surrounding the field. Everything felt tranquil, like I was suddenly being cleansed of the pills I had popped earlier.

“You’re about to get soaked!” I heard Kevin shout to me, igniting that thrill of ecstasy once again as he came rushing towards me. I quickly turned around and screamed as he picked me up to throw me over his shoulder.

“Kevin!” I shrieked. The drops of water were quickly turning into sprays, and then full blast as he carried me closer and closer to the sprinkler’s nozzle. I heard sounds escaping the bottom of my throat in the form of both laughter and squeals.

“This is what you wanted, right?” He laughed out over the sprinkler’s loud clicking noises as it spun from side to side. I pushed myself off of him and almost fell over while trying to land on my feet.

“You asshole!” I rushed back towards him. Attempting to push him down onto the same sprinkler he had just soaked me with, I blindly forced my arms out. It was no use. I was already clumsy enough during the daytime. He dodged my tackle only to quickly grab me from behind to then release me onto the swampy ground. I grabbed his arm with all my strength and took him with me. We wrestled on the floor, each trying to get the other closer to the blasting spray of water. Bursts of laughter broke out from both of us as we finally stopped struggling, intertwining our body parts so that we were awkwardly pinned down in the middle of the field.

“You know I’m going easy on you right?” He stated as he got on top of me and smiled. I felt delirious and as the pills finally wore off, I knew these feelings could only be lingering because of the boy that was straddled on top of me.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, but said nothing when I met his through the darkness. We stared at each other in silence, completely disregarding the fact that we were both half naked, soaked and covered in mud.

“I love you,” I finally let out in a choked whisper. I bit my lip as soon as I heard the words, as if that was enough to take them back and swallow them whole before he noticed. The moment took control over me, just as his body was taking over mine.

He arched over, holding onto my arms spread above me so that I was completely stuck, laid out on my back. His face got closer to mine, his breath heating the skin of my cheek.

“Say it again,” He demanded in a whisper as I felt his lips curl into a smile next to my ear.

“I love you,” I said again, this time without restraint, and he softly pushed his lips onto mine. I closed my eyes and lifted my lips into his, the flicker of water drops intruding in between each gentle kiss.

As he pulled away, he looked down at me. A smirk appeared on his face and no longer did I see a reflection of an innocent girl through his darkened, glossy eyes. My image was changing, like the sun falling into the dark night sky and he was time, guiding me through the course of a sunset.

The missing piece

I get why it may be difficult to be single. I get it. Every time a relationship ends for me, there is a yearning for some one to touch again. Not only physically, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Those parts of you can only be touched by someone you fully commit to and someone who fully commits to you as well.

The problem is, if you are unable to make that connection with yourself then you will not find a suitable partner that touches you in the right way. 

Sure, I’ve fallen in love with people whom may not have categorized into what makes my heart truly compatible with theirs. We will have meaningful conversations, great sex and go through lessons learned. 

It’s worth it. It really is. It’s just that these bonds fall through the cracks that aren’t filled, because there are aspects missing. 

There are parts that don’t quite connect. Two pieces of the same puzzle that just don’t go together. You try pushing those two edge pieces together that seem as if they’re the perfect fit, but they retract. 

I keep trying to put those two pieces together. With every relationship I attempt, I know in the past it hasn’t worked so why do I keep trying to push? Putting all my strength down on the two puzzle pieces in order to force them together.

Now it’s time I take a step back. This is what being single does for you. You get a glimpse of the puzzle entirely. Work on other pieces, form other parts, find other edges.

You’ve learned a lesson. Those two pieces just don’t go together, so you separate them as to not make the same mistake again.

I’m slowly starting to see the image of my own puzzled life. I’m starting to see which people belong, which paths I should take and conserving my energy on the parts that really matter.

One day I’ll find a match for that piece which symbolizes a romantic relationship. I’ll find a man that fits so well into my molded life, that I’ll press down with ease. 

It’s not finding a partner or being out of love that is the hard part. Being single is a struggle because you’ve been focusing all of your time on energy on these two pieces that just don’t fucking work and you suddenly notice you’ve gotten nowhere with the rest of the damn puzzle. It’s accepting that there are other parts in your life that need working on, developing on and struggling with that’s the hard part, because only then are you able to find that true love you are searching for. 

That missing piece.

Just realize you will not find it until you take a step back and look at the full image of what you’re creating your life to be, with all the other missing parts that you must put together first.

Catch Up

My love for you will still remain,

Even though it causes so much pain.

It doesn’t die as easily,

Despite how badly we try to kill it.

Putting poison in my viens,

I want you out of my head.

The hardest thing is–

Blackouts were something we shared.

So falling into that despair

Is stained with you.

How do I get away?

Such a fucking shame…

You hurt when you see me?

I hurt. Always.

It’s not a new feeling for me.

This has been manifesting.

Since I first laid eyes on you–

Confusion and contemplation.

You can be mad. Be fucking mad.

I’ve been mad,

So it’s about fucking time you caught up.

Change of heart

I can’t even write about you. That’s when you know it’s bad. When the story I’ve been working on for years, suddenly seems like trash because it’s written about you.

You and your inconsiderate heart, me and my vulnerable soul.

That’s what this story seems to be about.

But, I can’t keep playing the victim. I chose to be broken by you. I searched for someone like you, to release all of the demons I had hiding so deeply within me.

So, I feel like this story may have changed its purpose in my life. No longer am I romanticizing you and our crazy, reckless, inconsistent love. It is a story of a girl and boy who broke each other and could never be the same again.

Maybe I am the Season…

I think the problem with me is that I tend to get bored easily. Everything at the beginning is new and exciting, but then it becomes repetitive and tedious.

It’s like how at school, I couldn’t get through classes by the end. I just couldn’t even look at a textbook without feeling completely emptied of any passion I may have had when I first purchased it.

What’s wrong with me? Is this a normal, healthy state of being? Or is it something I must learn to rid of?

I like following my impulses, reaching for one bad habit after the next. I enjoy the thrill of substances and material purchases and a bout full of sugary foods. I like to hit cigarette after cigarette and type out story after story.

I live to avoid, to avoid being still or to avoid reality.

I guess that’s why when I’m with someone, I can’t stand it. They put me in this consistent, tedious reality that I’m unable to escape without hurting them. When I’m alone, I can make decision after decision without it affecting much other people. When I was with someone, my decisions had consequences for them.

I don’t know how to be still. I don’t know if I want to be.

My mind flows from one project to the next, one idea to the next, one love to the next. It’s what helps me experience life and everything to the fullest. Is that so wrong?