"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long."

--Sylvia Plath

I’m happy that it was you that I got my first ticket and court summons with.


I wish I could spend Thanksgiving with the boy that I fancy.

I want to be with you again.

I love waking up to you. I love our lazy Sundays, comprised of laying in bed all day and talking. I love taking care of you when you’re drunk. I love getting high together. I love going downtown with you. I love that you let me paint your toe nails. I love watching you play rugby. I love the way your mouth tastes. I love showering together. I love it when you tickle me. I love sitting next to you on the bus. I love sharing meals at the dining hall. I love it when you trace my body with your fingertips. I love falling asleep next you every night.

You always wanted me to be perfect, but that’s the only thing I couldn’t give to you.

I’m lost.

Do I choose the one I love or the one I’m falling in love with?

Here’s what happened.

I couldn’t write this summer or the realization would have hit me faster. The truth was simple—I just wasn’t in love anymore.

Writing would have made me open up my heart to myself, and I just couldn’t do that. I couldn’t face the fact that my relationship that I treasured so much was falling apart right in front of my face.

We fought all the time, almost ever day. I yelled and cried. I considered breaking up with you. I put up with having sex with you. I tried to stop caring in order to make the break up less hard.

That’s the thing about relationships, if you aren’t in love then there’s just no point anymore.

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Sorry, no.

Anonymous :
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I’m not dating anyone.