i finally found it in me to delete everything on my phone regarding you, our tele chat, screenshots of our chats, pictures of random things.... i feel relieved, so intensely relieved. i kept that one and only picture of you I've got and i guess that's all I'm keeping. thank you.
The tenderness and care you show me when I'm sick, in spite of your fear of illness, makes me feel very loved.
I've been dating a guy for a while but I feel bad that he got stuck with me, I'm a super sensitive person and we were only together for a few months when I got raped so going through that together was a roller coaster.
It's a really weird feeling to give so much to someone and let them have so much power over your emotions and such. I want the best for my boyfriend but I'm afraid I'm not what he needs and that I'm only going to damage him.
After I was raped there was a point where we were alone in my room and when he closed the door and looked back at me I was so scared, I almost cried. He felt horrible as if it were his fault, we then hugged and I cried on his shoulder.
Do you know how horrible it feels to admit you're afraid of your own boyfriend for something someone else has done?
I don't want him to feel responsible for my emotions, especially when even I can't really control them.
What am I to do without a little eye candy every once in a while?
As you watch from afar,
I will break these chains,
And if ever I couldn't,
I'd break my bones and run away—
Leaving what we had.
Funny how when I imagine him now or hear his name, the picture or sound can't help but be accompanied by a feeling of disdain; however, sometimes, a small memory slips in that makes my mouth curve upwards, my toes curl and insides glow and I forget that things ever ended the way they did.
Like the way you would make origami out of tiny pieces of ripped lined paper or show a magic trick with the playing cards you brought when class ended early. Or the way we could hold an entire exchange of puns, or how we'd match each other with insults that jokingly painted the other as inferior.
~ What a paradox in memories helping us to forget
I know that if I confessed you would break my heart, so I’ll keep lying too myself and keep thinking that I have a chance