I love men in bits and pieces but I have yet to find one I have loved as a whole.
The first guy I ever loved was tall and set a preference in me for obnoxiously tall guys. I’m a small girl and I love my men to tower over me, because of him. I spent all my time around him, I teased him mercilessly, but I was also sweet on him and treated him nicer than any other person around. I rubbed his back, he fell asleep on my lap. He spent endless summer days at my house then one day…he was gone. He was the closest I got to loving someone fully.
Then the second guy was tall. But, personality wise he was the best. I loved his laugh, his hugs, the way he looked at me. But never did I love everything about him all at one time and my guard was up, because I wasn’t going to be left again, I only had so much of a heart left to give.
After him there were the others. The ones loved in so many small fragments.
You weren’t that tall. But you were nice. I didn’t like your personality half the time but those sweet things you did like driving at late at night with no destination, or going to watch a meteor shower on the trunk of your car, through shared binoculars and talking at ungodly hours made me weak.
The one who would geek out with me over movies and fall asleep every time I invited you over to my house. I lost something that I held dear and you bought me a replacement and I loved how you were just adorable and kind. But there was more that I didn’t love, and couldn’t be reconciled in my mind.
And the last one. You weren’t tall. You were my inverse guy. What I loved was purely physical and because of this I loved you least. I loved the way you found my skin intoxicating and when you said you loved my body. But I didn’t love your hasty hands, or that you didn’t know how to talk to me. The silences, the attempts to know you, that you disregarded so I let you fade into obscurity…
I love men in only in fragments.
In the darkness there’s always been a star or two that gave me hope. When things were at their worse I would lose sight or they flicker dimly…but I would always find them and look to them to find my way back to the light…
Lately my stars have been fading and I can’t find them or my way out. They’ve left me alone on this road to nowhere, there’s no end in sight.
When I cut myself the wounds just look like stretch marks so it’s not a big deal. My body has been tearing itself apart way before I ever consciously did…
I just want to curl up and disappear.
I want my mom. I want someone to rub my back and give me the hope that I can’t give to myself.
I always knew becoming an adult would be sad. I knew this…but confirmed it when I was eight going on nine. My uncle was sad. Then one day, my uncle was gone.
He didn’t answer the door when we got home…and then when my grandma got home and let us in, I ran to see him and tease him about not hearing the bell or our knocks.
He was there.
The ambulance came.
He was gone.
I knew he wouldn’t come home again. And he didn’t. The next and final time I saw him he wasn’t my uncle. I still can’t see him clearly from that day. The man laying in the box.
Growing up is nothing I ever wanted. I feel as though I’m standing in his place. I’m fading like he did. One day I’ll be that vague face in an adult sized box.
One day my face will be a blur to everyone that loved me and I’ll be that sad bruise on their hearts and minds.
now check your inbox.
(Source: clubocean, via unheardsecretsblog)
I’ll be turning 27 this year…I never thought I’d make it this far. But the way I feel lately I don’t know that I’ll make it to see the end of this year.
I’ve lost my appetite again…hopefully I’ll just shrivel up and die this time.