this is pain. and this pain never stops.

missing them in never going to stop hurting.
it might be in the back of your mind, you might even forget about it for a while, but it will always be there.  it’ll hit you when you’re least expecting it.
that’s the worst part of it, ya know?
the pain comes out of the blue.  you’ll be sitting, drinking a cup of tea at three in the afternoon and you’ll remember how they took their coffee with no sugar.  you’ll remember how their hair used to stick up all over the place because they would forget to brush it.  you’ll remember how they use to laugh so hard they would almost have tears running races down their flushed cheeks.
but these are good memories, right? this is how you want to remember them.

Next minute you’re doubled over, clutching your stomach and silently screaming to release the pain that’s tearing into your heart.  muffled tears and crescent shaped scars on your palms where you clenched your fingers so hard to stop yourself from feeling the knives in your stomach, in your back, in your heart.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write.

love thoughts pt. i

1. Let’s take a shower together with the lights off. Let’s leave our insecurities in the brightness.

2. I like the way you look at me when you’re laughing. I like the way you know it’s my favorite sound.

3. Let me wear your sweater. Let me sit in your bed and listen to you tell me about how you were as a kid.

4. I like the way you talk about all the people before me like they didn’t come close. I like the way you make me feel like I’m the only one who has ever had a chance.

5. I know forever is a shot in the dark, and love is fleeting and people are cynical and sometimes shit happens, but listen. I want to be that one shot in the dark. I want it to be us in the end. I want to be the story people tell in thirty years because no one fucking believed that we’d make it.

you didn’t even have to explain

You kissed me like you planned on doing it again
but you tasted like the kind of person who doesn’t know how to stay

and I think I could tell what you were thinking the moment you fell asleep that night
I remember waking up so god damn early that morning and I spent hours while you were asleep hopingprayingwishing that you’d wake up and smile at me the way I needed you to

But something cracked and changed
whoever you were before that night didn’t stay
the moment you woke up that morning
you looked away

I guess what I’m trying to explain
is that people like you break hearts
and never know how to mean what you say
you act like you’re in it for the long haul and then it’s “oh God can’t we just stay friends?”
but I mean Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, friends don’t look at each other the way we did when we slept in each other’s beds

so it’s not you and me anymore you know
it’s you me and everything we don’t know how to say to each other

so we hold it together in the way we never touch;
we hold it together in the way we stay
just friends.
if staying friends means seeing each other in familiar places and laughing and smiling like you didn’t tear this to pieces

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write

wholeheartedly. selflessly. beautifully.

and so, i loved you. wholeheartedly, selflessly, beautifully.
it was the kind of love that was in your bloodstream, in your bones, the kind of love you couldn’t wash out of your hair no matter how hard you tried.
i think that was my first mistake, you know?  giving my all to someone who gave me not even half of themselves.  i thought, for a while, that we were in this together.  that we were both in it with our fists up and our throats raw from yelling at the stars, but when i looked around, you were sound asleep and my throat was bleeding.
i bled for you.
i’ve always been there the instant you needed me.
and so here i am, trying to love myself.  wholeheartedly, selfishly, beautifully.
i am going to give myself that vein deep kind of love, the love you never bothered to even try to give me.  i bet you never thought i’d leave, right? you always thought i’d be there for you to string around like a toy, right?  thought i’d never run out of chances to give you, right?
well, here’s to never leaving and giving all the chances i used to give you, to myself.

– excerpt from a book i’ll never write

some days, i hate who i am.

i mean it’s not like i spend every hour consciously saying “i hate myself.”
it’s just that when things go wrong my first response is “of course” or “i deserve this” and the occasional “this is because i suck.”
if someone asked me “do you like who you are” i’d be stuck.
i don’t feel like i’m 13 and emo anymore, but i kept the same haircut. i feel weird saying things like “i’m a burden and waste of space”, but i feel like that.
just maybe not in those words.
it’s just like i swell too big for the area. like i splash over the sides, a party foul, the spilled drink. i mean how extra would it be to say something like “i don’t like myself enough to keep living”.
doesn’t that just cause other people pain? doesn’t that just make people worry?
but on the other hand i’m stuck because i feel numb, vague, blurry.
like i should evaporate.
like i do nothing but cause people distress when i should be helping.
like okay. i don’t hate hate myself.
but if the car was coming i don’t know if i would get out of the way in a hurry.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write

in this one, you didn’t stay

In the future I pieced together for us, you hold my hand and I kiss your thumb and I am not afraid to tell you I miss you.

In that future we stand together in the grocery aisle arguing over which kind of ice cream to buy, and later I kiss the caramel off of your face while we clean up the plates.

In that future, you don’t leave at the first warning sign. You tell me that you’re scared and that it’s not easy to love when everything else is hard. You don’t think it’s the right time. You laugh when I tell you we’re worth fighting over, but I mean what I say and you believe me.

You stay.

In the future we really have, I am holding somebody else’s hand.
They don’t taste the same and they don’t remind me of warm  bread or taste like red wine. They smile different and they don’t make me laugh the same, but they’re willing to try and I want to hold on to someone with less warning signs.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write

dictionaries of heartbreak

red [red] n: any of various colors representing blood

i. your favorite song plays on repeat, drowning out your father’s voice, and when you press your fingers into your eyes to keep from losing your mind, it is the star that burns the backs of your eyelids and the tips of your fingers.

ii. when he winces away from her kisses, it is what paints his cheek under her fingers, sharp with toluene and formaldehyde.

iii. it is when your lungs burn in the darkness and the only thing that you can see is where she cut the strings she held you by; it is the place where your veins open to spill their contents over bone and muscle.

iv. when the sun sets, and it dissolves into clouds that soak up its blood; it is the color that stays as the daytime and everything beautiful disappears. it is the only thing besides her that is both beautiful and painful.

v. it is the color that you see when the world breaks your heart again and again.