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I’m scared to move on because I’m worried that the second I’m happy with someone else, you’ll pop up and ruin it. Ruin it by telling me that you want me, and that you’re sorry, and that you like me “kinda a lot,” and that you miss me “kinda a lot.” I’m worried that I’ll get so confused because I’ll be so happy with him, but of course I’ll still want you, and that will make me start crying all the time, end up losing the best relationship I ever had, just to have you get bored again and move onto some trashy girl. The worst part about all of this? I can see you doing it, because you want me hooked, you want me as an option, even if it is an option you’ll never take.

[i-cant-put-myself-back-together]

Trigger Warning

Last night my best friend sexually assaulted me while I was sleeping. There were 5 other people in the room, all sleeping. I woke up to his hand between my legs and his fingers digging into my breast. I didn’t scream. I didn’t call out. I didn’t even tell him to stop. I just sat there praying he would stop. I didn’t want to draw attention to it. I didn’t want my validity questioned. I didn’t want his excuses.

There is no right way to be assaulted. No right way to act. No one knows how hard it is until it’s happening. I froze. Some people scream. Some people fight. Some people freeze. There’s no shame in that.

There is shame in our society. Shame that he felt entitled to my body. Shame that at 18 this isn’t even the first time I’ve been sexually assaulted. Shame that when I told my friend they told me that I should be more assertive.

Our culture disgusts me. Our culture allows girls be treated like objects. Promotes possession.

When he touched me I was surrounded by friends. I wasn’t safe.

We are not safe.

[i-cant-put-myself-back-together]

I like sex. I like how it feels and I like how it makes my brain switch off. But it disgusts me. I think about what I’ve done and I want to throw up. I hate talking about sex because, even though I’m older now, and everyone is doing it. I still feel like the dirty little girl you made me out to be

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I’ll never stop being a cutter.

It’s not because my body is marred with scars.

Or because my family and friends know and that’s how they’ll always see me.

It’s the way my eyes love to watch blood bead on my skin.

It’s the way I get flashing images of my wrists slashed.

It’s the way I want to tear myself open everytime I feel bad, or sad, or alone.

I haven’t cut in over two years.

My body only has faded silver lines where red gashes used to be.

But when I’m sad, all I can picture is my skin opening up.

I’ll always be a cutter because I’ll always want to cut.

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Someone: why are you always so clingy?? 

Me: 

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Over and over, the people I pour my soul into walk away from me like I am nothing. Perhaps, I am nothing.

[i-cant-put-myself-back-together]

Hi I just want to be wooed and adored and loved beyond any limits please 

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“What I told you about saving people isn’t true. You might think it is, because you might want someone else to save you, or you might want to save someone so badly. But no one else can save you, not really. Not from yourself. You fall asleep in the foothills, and the wolf comes down from the mountains. And you hope someone will wake you up. Or chase it off. Or shoot it dead. But when you realize that the wolf is inside you, that’s when you know. You can’t run from it. And no one who loves you can kill the wolf, because it’s part of you. They see your face on it. And they won’t fire the shot.” - Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead

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“This is the way it is, the way it always was and will be – beaten over and over – panicking on street corners, or crouched in the back of taxicabs, afraid I’ll cry out in jammed traffic, and no one will know me or know where to bring me.” - Marie Howe, Prayer

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“I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

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“You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Ice Palace

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Maybe I was destined to forever fall for people I couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.

Carol Rifka Brunt

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I wish I could erase the feeling of your lips on mine

The memory hurts too much

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“This is your life and its ending one moment at a time.” - Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

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