rosay151

[rosay151]

[rosay151]

[rosay151]

Everyone who reblogs this post gets a pussy pic 😘

[rosay151]

“If you walk out, don’t try coming back!” She screamed as tears ran down her face.

I don’t want to walk out on her, she’s been the light to my darkness during these last two years of pain and misery, he thought. Some self inflicted, most out of his control. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew. Maybe it was just the natural order of things; to love and be loved, the fire burning brightly until one day it fades away. You see it and she sees it but neither of you ever wanting to deal with such a reality as this. He looked back at her from the door, bags packed and he looked at her longingly on the couch, his eyes swelling with a guilt he’d never felt before as the hushed words leave his lips “goodbye my love”.

As he closes the door behind him and packs the car and unbearable pit fills inside of his stomach, pressing up firmly into his throat. He turns the key to the ignition and drives away, free from the hell and turmoil of love, free to explore the world and expand his mind like he told himself he would do all those years ago, but it feels different. Lonely, empty, hollow or just solitude he thinks. Finally some time alone to think about everything that’s transpired not just tonight, but all those nights leading up to tonight. The silent fights they’d had, the awkward glances and still silence. Nothing had been the same since his father died suddenly, this seemed the last vestige of that time gone by, time to cut out the last bit of pain remaining and start anew. The only question was, where?

As he drove down the highway speeding, reckless, and abandon with nowhere to go his phone rings. It’s his friend wondering how the break up went, “it went swimmingly dawg, she took it so well and I did too. It’s like it never happened and were good as new” he thought. His friend could be a fucking moron sometimes.

“Want to hit up the bar and watch the All-Star game?” Came the voice through the phone.

“Sure” he replied solemnly, anything to take his mind off the girl he’d just walked out on.

4 years, 8 months and a handful of days, gone. In one instant. How did it come to this he wondered. Well I’m sure the lying and the cheating didn’t help his conscious brain roared at him as he sat at the red light inhaling deeply from the cigarette trying to gain control of himself. Yeah but what led you to lie and cheat he wondered. There was once a time when she was all he knew, all he thought of, and would do anything for; short of killing because while Ernest Hemingway would approve, he wasn’t that cool of a guy.

“It was nothing she never did” the words slowly escaping his mouth and he settled down the foaming beer. His friend looking on between pitches.

“She was a Bitch dude. A royal fucking bitch. You’d been complaining about her for over a year now. She wasn’t going to change and nothing you could do or say was going to change that. Hollow fucking broad, you’re better off anyway” the friend says triumphantly as he jumps out of his chair cheering for the RBI double that just occurred.

“I get it but why do i feel like such a piece of shit then? Like a complete failure?”

“I think the answer is at the bottom of your glass” as the friend starts to chug his beer.

He follows suit, knowing damn well the answer isn’t at the bottom of the beer glass but at least it will allow him to feel some other emotion than the pain and regret of a dead love. He swipes through his phone, back to the dating apps. The same ones that got him in trouble, now serve no meaning but a constant reminder of past mistakes. The allure of sex, the allure of finding easy prey to make do provocative things for him over FaceTime. The games over now, time to retire and face this demon head on.

“So do I call her or go back to the apartment and apologize?” He inquires. Completely unsure and eroded of the same confidence that allowed him to look her in the eyes just an hour ago and say, “this is over and going nowhere, i need a break”.

“What are you fucking stupid?!?” The friend screams as the entire bar grows silent, and shifts their gazes from the televisions to the two mid 20 somethings. “No you don’t fucking call her. You put your nose to the ground and find someone else to lick your nuts for you. Focus on your job, focus on other girls, or pick up a new hobby. Whatever you do though, DON’T FUCKING CALL HER” he enunciated it loud and clear, but the words felt foreign to him. How do you not call the girl you’ve been calling for the last 5 years plus about everything. From late night parties you were going to meet her at, to the nightmare you had the night before she moved down, to the passing of one relative, and then another and then another. So much history, so much invested time and energy and now...what? I’m just somehow supposed to forget, he thought himself. Turn off that part of my brain from ever thinking about her again. Refuse to acknowledge she exists? The whole idea feels foreign to him and he doesn’t know how to react.

“Can I get another Yeungling draft and a shot of Jack please” he asks the bartender handing over a crisp $20 bill.

A clap on the back from his buddy and some words of encouragement “there you go man. You’ll be better in no time” his friend insists as he goes back to yelling at the tv. “Not a tag are you fucking nuts! Strike THREE?!? That ball was 5 feet off the plate!! What is this nonsense?!”

Tonight is going to be a long night, was the only thought going through his head as he downed his shot, letting the warmth simmer on his tongue and feeling it melt down his throat and into his stomach.

He pulls into the drive, dark and clouded just as its been since his father died. The kitchen light is on, moms home but does she know who’s about to walk in. A shell of a man, broken, half drunk, and ready to just give up. He walks in as the television is blasting. Another feel good nobody who makes their way to the final stage of some show, for some music contract. They’re a hit now but what’s their purpose. Who’s going to remember them in 5 years time when the show rolls out another “talented act” to usurp their place. Everything in this world is made for replacement supposedly, nothing lasts forever.

“Hi mom” he speaks softly as her face lights up. She wasn’t expecting him but she sees the gloom on his face and walks to him wondering what it is that has his home at this hour, on a random summer night. She knows the answer, its not the first time they broke up but this time feels different. All his boyish charm is gone, the lines on his face show now, and his eyes begin to swell, unable to hold back the emotion that’s been building up for too long. Unable to be strong any longer he fixes a glass of water, sits down and reflects in quiet contemplation what’s happened of his life.

Upon reflecting he’s come to the conclusion he’s an asshole, a Grade A nobody. Incapable of loving anyone other than himself and sabotaging everything and everyone that gets close. Another sip of the cold water tells him to shut up the harshest of critics, his mind. Always the one to get him into trouble, yet always the one to lead him to salvation. But where’s salvation this time. He’s in the house he grew up in, half in disrepair, half fixed. This has been his side gig since his dad passed away some 15 months prior. But it doesn’t feel like home, hasn’t for a while. A presence has always been missing in this house, its white walls turned grey, its character stripped away in favor of modernity and functionality. He asks again what’s to come from all of this and an inner voice tells him change. Everything is constantly changing and now the time has come for him to change, but how?

He looks around the house, his mom already back to the tv and laughing gayfully at the tv. Life goes on he tells himself, as he grabs his things and heads up to his old bedroom. The bedroom he’d occupied two years earlier before moving in with his now recent ex. It’s not even his room, its his sisters room he’d been force to take refuge in when his dad took over his bedroom when he got sick. Another reminder that nothing in this world is his. He owns nothing but petty items, irrational thoughts, and a slug of pitiful emotions. The room is cold as he climbs into the cool twin size bed, just barely large enough to contain his frame. He closes his eyes and off to bed he goes, tomorrows another day he tells himself before shutting up for the night.

Within minutes he’s wide awake and he knows he’s in for it. No sleep will be had on this night as he tosses and turns expecting to find some comfort in a room he’s all too familiar with. A gloom he’s known all too well. He turns on some music hoping it will help him forget. SKIP, melody is too soft and aching his heart. SKIP lyrics singing of love, “fuck love” he tells himself. SKIP this melody is too upbeat, how can anyone be upbeat in a time like this as he throws his phone on the floor and stares up at the ceiling. Maybe its only temporary he tells himself, maybe she’ll text you tomorrow asking you to come back home. You do still have the apartment key, why not just go back. Pride, ego turn him away. You made your bed now lie in it. Figure a way out as he grabs a pad of paper and begins to write. At first it starts off as an apology letter, halfway through he crumbles up the paper and throws it out, that won’t help. Then he starts writing out a to-do list. What needs to be accomplished tomorrow? Well you have work midday, but the gym sounds good in the morning, done. What else? Clean up some of the house, done, gotta get the house repaired so it can sell and mom can retire to Florida. I could unpack my stuff, he looks over at his luggage he’d brought from the apartment. Not even a quarter of his life, sloppily packed in an overnight bag, the essentials he thought to carry in his haste to get out. Unpacking would be admitting defeat he reminds himself, i am defeated is his response as he ceases writing and stares out the window as the nighttime stars slowly fade into a morning sunrise.

[rosay151]

[rosay151]

732

Reblog if you live in New Jersey

I’m curious, I live in Jersey and I want to see how many of my followers do too

[rosay151]

Mhmm 😋

I need more people to chat with about incest! Feel free to message me :D

[rosay151]

Anonymously message me (3) things you want to know about me.

[rosay151]

REBLOG if you don't mind horny lesbians sending you dirty messages 💦

Please.

[rosay151]

732

Reblog if you live in New Jersey

I’m curious, I live in Jersey and I want to see how many of my followers do too

[rosay151]

I'm drunk and horny

I'm drunk & sad.

Entertain me, minions.

[rosay151]

Find some girls from New Jersey

Anyone in Canada 😈

–

Since you were so proactive and sent me your ID, proof pics, and location without even having to be asked I’m going to post this for you.

Any rapists in Alberta like hot chocolate?

[rosay151]

Where are you from? I'd love to cum all over that stupid face of yours

Sometimes I spend my weekends being a drunken high hot mess in hotel rooms … but I’m still cute AF. 💁🏽💋

(please don’t remove my caption, steal my photo and use as your own, or add your sick fantasies to my selfies - unless you have my permission. Otherwise you’ll have forced me to eat your soul and wash it down with some whiskey.)

[rosay151]

I'd love to

Anyone wanna do a masturbation tribute to the wife message me

[rosay151]

Where in NJ? I'm in 732

Message for local fun in Nj or skype shows ! 💋

[rosay151]

Reblog if you want one of these in your askbox:

[rosay151]

Of course 👅