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d.k.

Part of me wonders what would have happened had I gone home work you that night. How would I have felt the next day? How would you have felt once you sobered up?

My fear is that you would have moved on to the next person after you had gotten bored of me, leaving me with guilt and shame. My fear would have been how I came to terms with it, how would I have ever become clean again knowing I gave myself to a man whom I knew only wanted exactly what I gave him.

Either way I’m left unable to get you out of my brain, and I hate it. I hate missing your touch ever so slightly. I hate the tantrum you threw in public when you didn’t get your way the most. I’d apologize, but I should not have to feel bad for not feeling safe with going home with a strange man in an even stranger city. 

No matter, I still feel off after you. 

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A Letter to Him and a to Myself

I hope you know / Just how much I hate you // For making it so damn easy / To love you beyond better judgement

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//

I feel like I’m still not doing anything of importance with my life, keeping busy and finally supporting myself with little to no fulfillment and what feels like little success. There was a time when I was passionate and driven, now everything I do is done so apathetically, and I hate it-- I no longer recognize myself and would do anything to get the me I fell in love with back again.

To say I’ve lost much when I moved back to my home town is simply stating truth. I feel like I lost a piece of myself, my confidence, and my drive to be a better me. Who am I anymore, and how can I get the me back that I was once so proud of? If only I had the unapologetic confidence to live for me instead of doing what I thought was right for the sake of others. I can’t help but wonder where I would be if I lived my life for me instead.

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“To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

— Unknown

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Greenland Expedition by :

© N. Bondarev

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requested by coalmine301

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“Being alone never felt right. Sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.”

— Charles Bukowski

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I saw a photo of you today for the first time in forever, you felt like a stranger

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not like i ever studied

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“Come and kiss me and let’s forget.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald // The Ice Palace

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Cold winter nights are meant to be warmed by my lover’s arms, all I want is the rhythm of his breathing to be the metronome to focus me into the moment. On the nights distance keeps him from me, a cold tequila in a hot bath will have to suffice.