We haven’t hardly spoken more than a few sentences to each other in over a year. We’ve been so distant ever since we broke up, or at least shortly afterward and I can understand why; I hurt you, I was shitty to you, and you didn’t deserve any of it. You were doing the best you could do at your age and I threw it in your face. I was a horrible girlfriend and I regret every wrongdoing I committed against a wonderful girl like you.
This may seem like a pathetic attempt to get you back but it isn’t; I’m just being honest and I don’t want to hide anything from you, unlike in the past when I would hide everything that mattered. I am so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you, big or small. I remember stopping you at a party last November and telling you that but I remember you smiling and saying just about anything to placate me because I was drunk. I still meant it and I would apologize every time I saw you because you deserve that for what I did.
Yes, I care for you and I would still drop everything I was doing to help you if you really needed it. I would do that for only the people who really have earned that devotion, and you are certainly one of them.
You texted me today saying that it isn’t the same without me. I never thought I would ever hear that from you and even you admitted you aren’t sure why you said it and you thought you had too much pride to ever admit it. I know just how true that is which is why it means so much. It really made my day so much better knowing you, among others, missed me. Again, never thought I would ever hear that from you. It may not really change things between us but it still means the world to me after so long.
Dear everyone who judges me,
I know I am not beautiful.
I know that, at best, I am average.
My nose has a bump. My face always has some kind of acne on it that distracts from the rest of my face. My hair is thin and frizzy since I’ve dyed it so much. My eyes are a dark brown that not many notice because they are such an average color. I have constant dark circles under my eyes because it’s hard for me to sleep most of the time. My lips are very thin and I have to work to make them fit well on my face. My face is square-shaped. My teeth are yellow from when I had braces and I didn’t take care of them. My body type is average with a little weight around my hips and thighs. My legs are scarred and bruised from past work and from being so clumsy. I have scars on my hands and arms from accidents and from bouts of cutting that I have put behind me. My upper back is permanently bent and my lower back is permanently curved. I have big feet for my size. I am short and not statuesque.
I am not beautiful.
But I know I am not ugly.
I look decent and that’s all I can ask for.
I’m confident enough in myself to be myself and not care what people say. I will model for people’s cameras clothed or nude because I’m comfortable with how I look. I know that in the end, it doesn’t matter what other people say about me; it’s how I thought of myself as I lived. What other people say doesn’t affect how I feel when the day it’s over, it’s how I viewed myself.
For now, I am enough.
I kind of want to see my last two exes duke it out in an epic battle of manliness.
I know damn well who would win but maybe I just want to see the older ex get his pussy ass kicked.
I’m pretty pissed at him right now, though. I know I shouldn’t be but when we broke up last July-ish, we told each other that we would send each other the shit we didn’t want of each others’. Granted, it took me nine months, but after getting dumped, kicked out of my house, moving in with a new family, then planning on returning home,I didn’t have much time to gather everything of his and mail it out(money was an issue, also).
So I mail his box of t-shirts and other miscellaneous stuff to him along with a letter of apology and a polite request that he send my stuff to me as soon as possible, and if he can’t that he text or call me letting me know. I left some things there that I want back.
It’s been two weeks and I haven’t heard a fucking thing.
Nah, I don’t want Jacob beating on him. I can do it my-fucking-self. Fucks sake.
I don’t believe.
I don’t believe in mindless sex. I don’t believe in romance. I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t believe in romantic love. I don’t believe in casual sex. I don’t believe in making love. I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t believe in commitment. I don’t believe in love stories. I don’t believe in love.
I believe in the fluttering of my heart when you smile at me. I believe in the weakness in my knees when you hug me. I believe in the butterflies in my stomach when you laugh at one of my stupid jokes. I believe in the smile I get when you drag me on one of our crazy adventures. I believe in the calm I feel when we fall asleep together. I believe in the way I change when you tell me the truth. I believe in the hope I have when you stay with me after I mess everything up. I believe in the way my worries melt away when we are together.
I don’t believe in love. But I do believe in who I am when I’m with you.
I miss you a lot and I’m sad that I can’t be there to watch after you while you’re sick like you did for me.
Feel better soon, okay?
I love you.
The heart is merely a muscle.
Something to be worked,
to be pushed,
to be exercised,
to be trained.
Instead of dumbells and reps and lifting and flexing,
this muscle strengthens
but like a muscle
with too much
it can be torn
To my friends,
I’m falling into that same pattern again.
That depressive one. You know.
The one that almost cost me you guys two years ago.
It scares me. I don’t want to lose you guys.
I should never have moved. I should have stayed at home and worked my ass off so I could have a decent life with you guys. I want to be able to drive over after work to just sit and watch the guys play Halo and Skyrim and join in sometimes when I feel confident. I want to curl up on the couch with Kristi or Digits or Mirkan or Brittany or Shelby or Noah and watch terrible movies and He-Man and Doctor Who and whatever other show we all decide to watch that week.
I have been there for hardly any of it. I’m not a part of the group anymore and that kills me. I may be accepted with open arms when I am there but I’m more of a cameo in the sitcom that is our group. I miss out on so much because I’m not there, I don’t really fit in because I don’t know all the new things you’ve discovered.
It hurts knowing I willingly chose to separate from the group when I did, when I was just starting to come back together with everyone.
It’s a bad night tonight. I can’t stop crying. I feel so hopeless and so lonely because now I can’t feel like I can depend on anyone. Not because I don’t trust you but because I don’t deserve your help since I haven’t been much of a friend to any of you. Because I chose to leave.
Please don’t go to far before I come back. I hope to god it’s this summer, I want to be back with you. I miss you. I don’t want to be alone anymore.
To you again,
People say we’re perfect for each other. People say we’re made for each other. But we aren’t.
You turn to your vices to have fun; I turn to mine to cope. I pop pills to feel the way I did when I visited; happy, warm, safe. It’s all an illusion. It’s fake.
I’m not warm; I’m freezing.
I’m not safe; I’m toying with my body.
I’m not happy; I’m miserable.
I wish I was brave enough to go away but I’m scared of doing it myself. Why can’t I get cancer? Or get hit by a car? Or get raped and shot?
I want to die so I will stop inconveniencing you and repent for being such a terrible friend. For being like every other girl you know. I wanted to be different.
I wish I was the kind of girl you could like. I know you love me and I can’t ask for anything more. I just wish you liked me too.
What’s truly sad is that if you saw this, you wouldn’t react how most people would. You would shrug it off and say an encouraging word or two and go on with life. I expect nothing more than that and I would have it no other way.