that the only reason you’ll come over tonight is because i can’t bear to be by myself sometimes. because you’re the only person that tells me it’s okay anymore. because you get confused when i say that i might not make it because you’ve never actually thought that yourself ever. and your innocence and the way i always turn away when we sleep and how you bring me milk when all i want is hot chocolate and movies when i don’t want to move and drive when my car doesn’t start and never complain about my music even if you hate it. all the things i love about you and when you’re gone all the things i’ll miss and i just wish i wasn’t too scared to stay in one place because i’ll be gone soon. and i’m a terrible person for just wanting one last night.
driving, always driving because driving makes sense even when i don’t and even when i’m falling apart and even when I’m directionless and broken it’s the only way I know to keep moving without needing to know where I’m going. the same shitty nightmare and new things and new clothes and new music and big houses and hard drugs and more alcohol don’t fill me up like they used to and the high feels low. a lower low. and i’ll admit that I’m a mess and i’ll admit that I need your help but it never comes and I am angry and I am empty and i’m so sick of wasting time. I always use words like “sometimes” and “somedays” because nothing ever lasts but this will. throwing things in my face and all the people and that day the first day I went back and stories that sound nice but maybe you just don’t want me or I’m not ready but I need something and I need it now because sooner or later I’ll find something to fill me up and stop the emptiness and that’s what I’m scared of the most.
and that’s what i’ll send. line after line of the things i shouldn’t. i’m telling secrets to the one person you should never tell secrets to. because that’s all i know to say, i am empty and shallow. and no matter how far away i get, i can’t get these things out of my head.
the friends I could actually tolerate and work nights blasting britney spears and taking shots in the freezer. driving home afterwards and your house, always your house and dinosaur cuddling. my shitty decision to take zero hour always more apparent with my monday morning wine hangovers and anytime keeney opened her mouth. i even miss making fun of the cheerleader that slept with tony schmitz to her face and laughing at mendieve who couldn’t teach worth shit. parmesan bagels with tosha. driving with richie. photo. but mostly always always alone. done at noon and my car parked by the church and music and trying not to hit sophomores walking to the co-op. sometimes I want it back. I’d have friends and brush my hair and I wouldn’t be so in love with my bottle of skyy and anything to do with not being able to feel my face. then I remember that I could never have anything other that. the mess. the isolation and bad first impressions. all of it and all of that is me and I hate it sometimes and I hate myself somedays but the lows usually always pass.
avoiding mirrors today and my hair feels messy. stomach empty and I want perfection. real perfection. and then i’ll be worth loving. or then i won’t be this fucking mess and maybe what I am and what i have will be enough. people won’t leave and I’ll stop being so scared to stay in one place.
somedays it’s too tiring to try and convince myself i’m beautiful when all I want to do is throw up.
