Category Archives: Uncategorized

Fear-ed out?

If you look at me right now, I’m still tanned as all hell from spending literally hours at the beach. 
But while I was there, getting tan lines so fine they could kill, I did a lot of things I was afraid to do. 

1. Travelling alone. In all fairness, I wasn’t completely alone all the time. I actually went as a third wheel with my sister and her boyfriend. But I kept my distance and didn’t hover over their private time. I did have to get there and back on my own. Now this isn’t exactly a fear as much as it is confusion. I get mixed up and my anxiety gets the better of me. If there’s a neon sign right in front of my face, I’ll somehow manage to not see it. I remember the last time I had to get to Banglore alone, I freaked the fuck out. I forgot where I was supposed to get my luggage, I kept dropping my purse, and I had a break down in the middle of the airport. Bless that uncle who helped me get it together and took me to my airline and got me sorted. But this time I kept my shit together. I made a list of all the things that had to be done and followed it religiously. I paid attention to everything and didn’t make an ass of myself in front of strangers. So I guess I’ll be fine the next time I need to get somewhere alone. 

2. Talking to strangers. Because I was spending a lot of time alone by the beach, a group of people decided to adopt me for a fee days. I can only imagine how pitiful I’d had come off that they decided to adopt a complete fucking stranger to be a part of their vacation. This was hard for me for more than one reason. Whenever I meet someone new, there’s this voice in the back of my head saying “They’re making fun of you.”  Then these people spoke in accents that I could barely understand. But most of them were so nice that I didn’t have to actually understand what they were saying. Plus I reckoned that there’s no way I hell another group of people is ever going to be this nice to me ever again, so I just went along with it. I think I got my social anxiety under a certain level of control. 

3. Clothes. Like I’ve mentioned before, whatever confidence I’d gained in the past two years about my body was brutally gutted by a girl. I was at a point where following MJs path seemed like the only way to feel accepted. I was very confident about my body before. I never was “thin”. I’d always been curvy as all fuck and that wasn’t gonna change so I accepted it. I didn’t care who was staring at what. I was very chill with it. But this time, I was conscious again. I wore the loose clothes that I hadn’t worn in two years. I kept my scars hidden. I wore fucking jeans the first day of my trip.  But by the end of the second day it became apparent to me that there’s no way in hell I can wear clothes which have a high chance to adhering to my skin. I thought a lot about it and decided that fuck it. It’s not like anyone knows me here. I don’t even speak the language. So just fuck it. And so I bought and wore clothes that if my mom ever saw me wearing them, she’d either die of a stroke or give me one. My legs hadn’t seen daylight on three years so I’d forgotten how fucking awesome it is to not have to wear pants. 

4. Talking to guys.  It’s not like I can’t talk to boys or anything. I can. It’s more like “picking up a guy” that’s way out of my league that gets me jittery. I don’t like that many people for that purpose anyway. And more often than not they turn out to be bimbos. But there was this particular guy who I’d seen around the hotel that it just made my jaw hurt(Yeah, for some reason my face starts to hurt when I like a guy.)  He had the calves of a Greek God and just *shivers*. So one day I saw him hanging around the lobby, a day before I was about to leave, and it was dinner time so the place was pretty filled up and he was sitting alone. I hadn’t seen him with anyone else so I took a gamble. If I hadn’t smoked up half an hour ago, I probably wouldn’t have done this. In my defence, I’m blaming my behaviour on hash. I went up to him, laid out my intentions and fifteen minutes later I had his number. Not that I ever called him. He turned out to be the owner of a new café in the city that I live in. I wouldn’t have guessed this by his accent. But he was really nice. His flirting was the best flirting I’ve experienced in my life. We ended up having dinner together. It was fun while it lasted and thankfully it didn’t last a long time. 
5. The ocean. Or rather getting more than 2 feet into it. I can’t swim, okay? I mean I’ll not sink into the water, but I won’t 100% make it either. So this group that adopted me, they were into a lot of things. One day they wanted to go scuba diving. Sure, it’s all fun and all but I can’t do it because I can’t fucking swim. So I stayed outside the water and clicked their “training” pictures and SI called “candid” pictures. Then one time they all started jumping of a fairly high cliff near my hotel. When the first girl jumped I nearly passed out. What the fuck??? Why do you need adrenaline like that?? Look at me, I barely have any adrenaline at all and I’m doing fine. Aside from being severely depressed and suicidal, I’m fine. Then this guy “S” asked me if I wanted to go and jump after him. I explain to him the best I could that I didn’t know how to swim and I’ll probably die. Then he said “if you don’t do it now, you never will”. I understood he came from a good place but it still didn’t solve the problem of me not being able to fucking swim. Then he said that he won’t let me die. One after the other, four of them assured me that they wouldn’t let me drown. So I went up and looked down. I thought if I die right like this, no one will ever suspect anything and I’ll have an easy out. It still took about fifteen minutes to completely say goodbye to life as I knew it. And I jumped. I don’t think I’ve ever screamed as loud in my life. I didn’t think I’d be able to speak at all after that. But I didn’t drown. They save me. Then I jumped like 6 more times before it started to get dark. It was so so so liberating that I didn’t think about dying for a whole week. 

It didn’t solve anything. It doesn’t even matter that I had a few weeks off my shitty life to have some fun without having to answer anything to anyone. It didn’t do shit besides leaving me broke as fuck for the next month. But I guess it did give me an opportunity to do things I wouldn’t have otherwise done. 

Life still sucks. I still want to die more than anything. I don’t have a college yet. But now at least I’ll have something to share with my fellow ghost on the afterlife. 

A little hypocrisy? 

I don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to judging anyone. I’m the third most horrible person I know.  So basically, not a lot of things bother me about other people. They can do whatever they want to do. I honestly don’t care. I’m no one to tell anyone else how to live their lives so usually I maintain my safe distance from crap like this.

But today I would like to talk about sex.

 I don’t have any “superstitions” related to sex. I couldn’t care less about this whole “You’ll go to hell if you have sex without getting married” thing. If I’m going to hell, trust me it’s because I’ve done a lot of things wrong and this would be the last reason I get sent to hell. Funnily enough, I read a quote that said “Loose your virginity early in life. It helps you focus on bigger things.” I have never read anything as true in my life. I’m not saying do it as soon as possible. No, do it whenever you actually want to. But in the end, your “virginity” doesn’t define you. Have sex if you want to, don’t have sex if you don’t want to. It really is as simple as that. 

 I don’t care about who’s having sex with whom.  It’s completely absolutely their business. I’m not in charge of their bodies or who they decide to share it with. Also, when it comes to sex, people will do what they want to do. You can advice them not to do something but in the end they’ll do what they want. So I don’t waste my breath trying to tell anyone what to do, because in the end it’s not me they’re affecting. 

But I’m a little worried on two specific fronts. 

The first one is more scientific and the other one is a little towards the mental status of the society I live in.

So the first thing I’m worried about is people not using protection. Like what the fuck is up with that? Are you that keen on getting some STD or becoming a parent that early in life? Dude, it is seriously not okay to skip this. Now, I’m worried because I don’t have to sleep with anyone in order to catch an STD. This affects me, and everyone else around you. You’re not just putting yourself and your partner at risk, but everyone you hang out with. Like, what if we share lipstick? Or I use the washroom at your place? Not just me, but literally everyone around you. What’s the fun in that, man? It’s disgusting. Even if you’re on birth control, what if your partner caught it from someone else after you both got checked? And talking about birth control, it can fail too, you know. Everything can fail. You could end up pregnant. Obviously this doesn’t apply to you if you’re legit trying to reproduce. I’m talking about people who are, are (give or take five years) my age.  I hear all these girls having sex without protection and then they miss their periods. Every time this happens, my blood pressure goes up.  (I get so worried that I have to remind myself that it’s not happening to me and that I couldn’t possibly be pregnant.) Like what were you doing man what kind of an idiot are you that you decided to have sex without protection? If your partner “suggested” this then he’s an idiot and you’re also one for listening to him and you both belong together. Then the next step becomes either an abortion or some such kit that’s available. Now, I’ve been told that if you abort your first fetus then it becomes nearly impossible to conceive. I’m not really sure about this because it’s something I’ve heard from other girls. Could be false but do you really want to take the risk? It’s really simple. If you’re having sex, use protection.

The second thing that really pisses me off is dudes bragging about who they’ve had sex with. In all fairness, girls do this too. Probably in much more details than guys do. A whole committee sits down to hear what the girl has to say. Do they spill too much information? Yes. But do they brag? No. It’s really not the same thing because we don’t start thinking that the dude our friend had sex with is a slut. Guys, on the other hand, not so much. I mean, yeah I could be wrong and you have the best friends on the planet, but I’m speaking about what I’ve heard. My own so-called “friends” have bragged about sleeping with someone, or getting to third base with someone. It’s gross on all levels and it’s so not cool. While I’m being told these things some poor girl’s trust is being broken. In my opinion, no one should talk about what they do in private to a third person. It’s as personal as it gets. Why do you have to parade the fact that you got laid? If only the two people talked to each other about these things, then they wouldn’t have problems. 

This situation also includes these so called “Friends with Benefits.” Half the people don’t know the difference between this and a person you just have sex with. You have to actually be someone’s friend and act like it to be considered under the former category. The latter I don’t support that much. I mean,  I personally wouldn’t like to be in that situation. Again, it’s not my life so, do whatever you want. 

Know when someone is your friend and when someone is just taking advantage of the fact that you’ll not say no. Your mental health comes way, way before your libido. In the end, if you’re okay with it then it really doesn’t matter what anyone say. (This doesn’t include spreading STDs to everyone you know.)

Also, listen to your gut.


​Now that I’m ashes and bones, talk about me.

Tell everyone how I was your whole world and you loved me. Talk about the times I made you so happy you could die. Play my favorite songs and say how you never thought I’d leave. Hear them tell you the lies you wish to hear right now, how it’s not your fault and that you shouldn’t feel guilty. Let the people you hate comfort you in your time of need. Give the speech you wrote. Oh, say those words like you mean them. Like you really did love me. Like you never could live without me. Like you’ll miss me.

Flaunt the curve of your lips and hear the best applause you’ll ever get. Shed a tear or two, to make your words more believable as the people start to leave.

Go home and get as drunk as humanly possible on your fucking guilt. Place my ashes on the mantle so I’ll always be before your eyes. Write a letter to me with hands that can’t stand still and then burn it because that’s the only way I’ll ever know what you felt.

Cry and scream my name so hard you can never say anyone else’s name ever again. Oh, yes, beg me to come back to life. Fall on your knees in front of God and cry for mercy, like I did. Ask him to bring me back to you and feel him reject you, like I did. 

Lie to my God and tell Him you’ll change. Lie your fucking ass off, come one. Make your lies so convincing that you fool yourself. Lie, fucker, lie and scream so damn loud that The Devil shakes in hell.  Deny your crimes so hard that they almost turn true. 

Now you’re asleep and yet you can see me. You hear me and I’m so deep in your fucking head that you think you can smell the crook of my neck. You can reach for me, be so close and yet not enough to touch me. You understand me now, yeah. You can see it through me and you fucked me up. You can feel my pain and hear my pleas. That chill down the spine? Get used to it, because it’ll haunt you till the day you join me. 

I should know.

Your fate is that you’ll love me more than you ever did. You’ll miss me so hard it’ll burn through your gut. You’ll see me everywhere you go, in every conversation you ever have. In the pretty faces of those around you to every thought you ever have. I’ll be there.  To remind you what you did to someone who only ever loved you. 

But now that I’m dead, at least you love me.

I’m sorry 

This whole self esteem issue is driving me insane. I don’t know how I let the words of a mean-ass bitch cut through my skin. It had taken me better part of the last two years to be comfortable within my own skin. Not just me, I used to urge people to do the same, too. I still do, but now I feel like a hypocrite. 

So I wrote this “thing” to just get it out of my head because I really can’t keep it in any longer, I’ll go crazier. 

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I’m not skinny like the other girls you like so much. I’m sorry I’m not as beautiful as your last one. I’m sorry you find me funny to look at. I’m sorry you had to put up with catfish after you’d had caviar. I’m sorry for not being fairer. I’m sorry for not having the perfect face. I’m sorry for my stretch marks over which I had no control. I’m sorry for my skin reacting the way it was evolved to. I’m sorry for my nose, and I’m sorry you had to look at it. I’m sorry for not having a symmetrical body so it’s appearance could please you more. I’m sorry my butt is spotted with cellulite. I’m sorry my breasts aren’t as identical as you’d like it to be. I’m sorry the sight of me makes you cringe. 

I’m sorry, even know it’s not my fault. 

I’m sorry for it all. 

*Picture by Sanjana Dawani. Seriously, stop what you’re doing right now and check out her page on Instagram. 

Cut off

I’ve been having a rough time lately.

Issues that I’d thought I’d resolved have come back up to haunt me all over again. My self esteem is at an all time low ever since a girl decided to rip me apart one by one. It’s not about validation. I don’t need some dudes telling me I’m pretty and what not. Flattery is not an answer to anything. But whatever, there’s no solution to that problem.

Then there’s another problem that has been bugging me. My education. What the fuck am I going to do about that, man? I can’t be a lawyer. I’ll be the worst lawyer this world has ever seen and I’m not even exaggerating. I’m someone who cries when someone yells at me, how the fuck do you expect me to face another attorney in a courtroom? Also, every single time I sit down to study Constitutional Law, it makes me want to throw up. There was this chance that I could transfer somewhere from the 5th semester but my stupid university cancelled all exams until further notice. If I want a transfer it’ll have to be in 3rd semester, setting me back by a year again. I can’t keep losing years like this or I’ll be 30 and still doing my graduation.  I don’t even the backup plan that every girl has; to get married. Because let’s be real, I’m not even proper human material, let alone wife material. I have no choice but to make something of myself and I’m pretty sure it’s not going to happen if I keep wasting years like they’re seconds. If you ask me what I’m good at? Well, nothing really. I can read and watch an absurd amount but that’s about the end of my intellectual prowess. So you see, I’m fucked in all places all at once.  To quote a friend, “I feel like I’ve taken more loads than Sasha Grey.”

I don’t even have the solace of feeling like this is Karma getting back at me. I’ve done my time. Karma has had its due. We’re even. My only saving grace is the hope that the world will end before all this happens. Or I’ll die somehow, if not then I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.

I tried traveling but even that didn’t work. All it did was leave me bankrupt for the rest of the month and gave me tan lines so sharp they could kill. It wasn’t all bad, though. I mean, yeah, hanging out by the ocean drinking cold beer is fun. Watching cute boys in the water without shirts is more fun. Smoking pot with some of  and trying to speak Portuguese is priceless. But what’s the point of any of it when you’re hundreds of miles away but you’re still thinking all the same things? 

I don’t go out a lot, either. Because I had an epiphany while I was off getting sunburned. I didn’t take my phone because it’s fucking useless. I took another one to click pictures and support my recent addiction to Boomerang. I didn’t tell anyone I was going because whenever I speak about something I’m going to do, it doesn’t happen.  It was being somewhat off the radar that I realized that not everyone I think is my friend, is actually my friend. Yeah, I know a lot of people but they’re not my friends. I realized they only ever called me when they needed something.  I don’t need anything from anyone other than their company. It sucked to realize that more than half the people only ever called me or remembered me when they needed something, and that they don’t actually care about me. I’m done calling people my friend when they’re actually not. They’re just the people that I know. I don’t have a problem being there for someone when they need me or helping them out with something. But I just expect them to be there for me, too.  That’s it. When I’m there for you at 4 in the morning, the least you can do is not ignore my texts. I’m done letting people walk all over me. I’m nice but I’m not fucking stupid.  It’s not even exaggerated expectation because there are a few people who call me even when they don’t need anything.

Radhika calls me just to tell me a joke or she just comes over wherever I am to simply hang out. Diksha calls me to tell me what all she did that day from waking up to going to pee. To be honest, they’re the only family I have. I don’t think expecting someone to just be there for me is too much. So since they don’t give a fuck then even I’ve decided not to. Like I said, I’m nice but not stupid. 

Don’t even get me started on boys. I’m just done with that altogether. I have enough issues without adding “boy” trouble to that.

Then there’s my dumb body which can’t run itself properly. I take vitamins, I take protein and I eat so much all the time. I still don’t gain weight. My face has become so ashy grey that I think it’s going to crumble if I go out in the wind. I have zero stamina to speak of. Then there are my ovaries who can’t behave themselves. It’s so fucking frustrating not having my period for almost a year now. Back in January I thought something happened but it was like only 2 days. The reports come up normal so I don’t know why is this happening. Am I pregnant? Am I dying? What’s happening down there, God? It was never my plan to have kids but it wasn’t in my plan to grow a mustache, either. Then there’s sleeping. I’ve been having so bizarre dreams that you wouldn’t believe.  So bizarre and so vivid that I’m not sure if it actually happened or not. I was jumping off a rock and into an ocean in one (Which isn’t possible because I can’t fucking swim) and in one I was having dinner with a family that I don’t think remembers me anymore. Then I keep waking up every few hours. So I’m seriously depressed, really anxious, malnourished and sleep deprived all at once.

 It sucks being me right now.

So you see, I’ve had a depressing month and I don’t think it’s getting better anytime soon. 


It’s been twenty years since I’ve come into this world. Sadly, I’ve been sensible for only the past two. Even when my actions made no sense, I don’t think I was ever someone who judged someone based on how they looked. I wasn’t that type of an asshole. Mainly because who the fuck am I to call anyone ugly or fat or whatever when I’m the same?

So when someone who knows absolutely nothing about me, started to talk shit about how I look and the way my body is, I lost it. It’s not like I haven’t heard how weird I look before. I agree with everything people say. My nose is weird. My skin is abysmal. My hair is worse. I KNOW. I know everything that is wrong with me but why the fuck do you need to repeat it over and over again? Even that’s fine when it’s all just a joke and everyone is making fun of everyone. It’s the comparison that hurts me. Specifically to someone who just brings out all my insecurities. 

There was this girl who just started talking shit about me. Mind you, this girl knew me for about twenty four hours. Then she started comparing me to another girl, whose name literally makes my heart drop to my stomach in an instant. First it was all a jest and even I was laughing but then she said something like: “God bless the man who has to see your face the first thing in the morning” and “That girl makes Niddhi look like a pig next to her” and I fucking cried. I mean this man she’s talking about doesn’t exist in my life yet.  It might’ve been a joke to her. That girl that she’s comparing me with isn’t even in my life anymore. And moreover, I know I look a little bit like a piggy.

But why hit right where it hurts? I mean I don’t go digging around other people’s insecurities then why the fuck are you doing this to me, man? Why are you being mean to me when I have done absolutely nothing to invite that kind of behavior? Why are you comparing me to someone in front of whom I will never have the genetic advantage? It’s not my fault I look the way I do. They didn’t ask my when my chromosomes were pairing up. They didn’t ask me what levels of melanin would I prefer on my skin. They didn’t ask me what kind of hair would I like. I was MADE this way. 

I even know that a dude will never ever choose me if his decision is solely based on the way I look. (To be completely honest, even if you put my personality in the mix, it wouldn’t help. Because who wants to listen to my dark humored puns and several fandoms all the time?) I know everything a person can hold against me. I’m everything a person doesn’t want in a human body.  How the fuck is it my fault that my skin is the dark or that my hair can’t behave itself. 

Why do we have to belittle someone just for the sake of being mean? I don’t understand what joy do people get in making someone feel so small and so bad? Why can’t we let people be?

There’s nothing funny or fun about bullying someone. It sucks, trust me. It makes you question everything from the way you look to the way you talk to the way you feel.

Please, just be a decent human being and don’t make fun of someone just for the sake of having a good time. All it does it create more mental issues. I don’t need more things to worry about, I have way more than enough. I don’t have relief in any aspect of my life. Why did you need to fuck it up even more?

So, please, for the love of all that you hold dear, do not make fun of someone’s insecurities.

It’s time

You deserve more

It’s a terrifying thing to loose touch with the one thing you want, I know. But sometimes it’s better to focus on growing rather than doing the same thing again and again that brings your progress down to square one. 

You deserve normalcy. 

You deserve all the cheesy things that you think are lame. 

You deserve more than what you’re getting and I hope you stand up for it.

It’s about time. 

It’s a rant

I’m suicidal.

Apparently there’s something wrong with that. But let’s be honest, who isn’t?  Who hasn’t at least once thought about ending their lives? Everyone is suicidal at some level or the other, I just happen to be at the pro version.

I don’t like to talk about it. I don’t like having to explain why I’m in a place where the future doesn’t exist for me. I don’t like to talk about coping mechanisms that I’ve adopted. This whole dying thing, I don’t talk about to anyone.

Believe it or not, a pot dealer gave me some great advice. Now that I think about it, he’s a pretty nice guy. So he told me that it’s better to write these feelings down. Not because they’ll help, but because after you die and people find these logs, they’ll feel awful for the rest of their lives. I like the sound of that. Not everyone, obviously. Just the ones who have driven me to the point of dying. Ironically, they’re the ones who are also responsible for me being alive.

Another idiot told me that if I go through with this, I should think about how bad my family will feel. Well, they better feel pretty damn bad. It’ll change them forever? Thank goodness. I don’t want my life to end in vain. I hold no love for my family. It died the day they told me that I had to become a lawyer, even if it took 10 years or even if it killed me. If you think I’m a monster for not loving my own mother then go ahead. I’m the worst creature to ever walk the Earth. If I had a kid who was already dying out of anxiety and stress, I wouldn’t drop the pressure on them to become something that they don’t want. I’ve had tough love my whole life. I’ll admit, it made me tough. But I’m no longer that strong. For once I’d like to be loved as a child should.

The worst part is, they know what I do. They know that I sliced my wrists open. They know I bled for a long, long time. They know that the reason I want to die. They know everything. Yet no one came to me to ask why were there bloodied clothes in the garbage. No one asked me why there were gashes on my wrists. No one asked, so I told no one. So when I die, I do want then to feel bad. Maybe they won’t do the same thing to my brother. Maybe he’ll benefit the most from my death.

I really thought that would be the day I’d end it. It didn’t take courage. All it took was a blade. I had a letter written out. Actually, three. One for my family. One for Diksha and one for Radhika. In them I wrote who gets my stuff.( For the record, no one gets my Louboutins. They go with me.)

It wasn’t God’s plan to make me die. I mean after an hour or so of bleeding you’d think the 5litres would run out. But apparently not. Fuck it, I didn’t even get dizzy. I only cried because on my laptop Netflix was playing S5 finale of Supernatural and it was a pretty sad scene. My poor Winchesters babies. (Yes, even when I thought I was dying it was Supernatural I was thinking about. Fuck you, too)

Needless to say, I didn’t die that day. I made a hell of a mess but I didn’t stop breathing. I’m still fucking alive, obviously.

Fuck, I didn’t mean to sound like someone who’s pathetic and needs help. I can still hold my own, thank you very much. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to listen to pot dealers, after all.

And I swear to The Hol Trinity that if someone tells me “You’re just 20 years old, you still have prospects,” or “You’re a kid and this is just a tantrum and you know nothing of real pain” I’ll throw a pan in their stupid face and then they’ll know what real pain is. Just because other people have it worse than me doesn’t mean I’m not relevant. I know everyone’s suffering. I know everyone feels like this. But I’m not everyone. I’m running on fumes here. If other people still have fires left, it’s because they’re made of stronger stuff than I am. Do not start preaching to me otherwise I’ll pull your guts out through your throat. (Fandom references all over.)

I’m still kinda sorta fine, because I have no other choice. I’m done trying to die because, I tried and it didn’t work. It’s not God’s will to put me out of my suffering just yet. My will wasn’t to make it to December 2016. But again, I’m just a human.

Maybe my lack of affection towards people is the reason I want to die. I mean I’m not completely out of touch with my human side. I still care about my family. I do what they say. I have friends. I help anyone who asks. I hold no grudges. I don’t hate anyone. But I don’t actually love anyone either. I don’t think I have it in me anymore to love another person. Be it my own blood or otherwise.

As for my coping mechanisms, it’s dark humour, cigarettes and Netflix. That’s it. I’m running on Internet and Smoke.

If there’s a light at the end if the tunnel, I don’t see it yet. And until I do, I’m not about to change a thing.

God, why?

See I don’t usually do this thing that I did, so know that when I did this, I put a lot of thought into it. 

I’m 20 years old, I’m not a kid or some poor naive girl someone took advantage of. No. I did this completely on my own, after putting days of thought into it. 

I did something that I can’t believe I did.

I kissed someone who I didn’t know very well at all. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done in my life. It sucked ass. It was horrible and all the while I was just concentrating on not throwing up. 

It was the first time in my life I went on a legit date, the kind I’ve only read about. The dude was nice and basically Adonis come again. I mean I didn’t have any high expectations, but I didn’t expect it to be disgusting. I’ve had my “fireworks” and I know it won’t happen again, but I could at least expect it to not suck. 

The worst part is that the there was nothing wrong with the guy himself. He didn’t do anything wrong. My stupid mind fucked everything up. 

I thought I was ready to do this crap again. I thought I’d made ny peace with everything but apparently not. I am far from ready to move on. Really far. Like million miles away kind of far. 

It was so embarrassing on so many levels. I had to get out of there and it was basically the most humiliated I’ve ever been. Why, Jesus, why?! 

I really don’t know how long I can keep this up. There has to come a point when I have to stop being pathetic. I don’t like being alone, okay? I don’t want to be one if those women who lead a loveless life and die with dogs. I don’t need anyone but I don’t do so well one. 

Maybe I’ll try again later. After scrubbing myself with Holy Water, that is. 


// Just a little out of reach, that’s where you are. I can see you but not touch you. I can breathe you but I can’t feel you. I love you yet I can’t tell you. You’re mine but I can’t have you. 

They say don’t let your happiness depend on one person. They’re so fucking wrong. My life starts and ends with you. You are my happiness and my grief. You are my pleasure and my pain. I’m grateful that you’re all I have, even if I don’t have you. 

But God forbid if we should both have what we want. God forbid, if we once don’t listen to reason. Still, let’s sin as much as we can, let’s defy fate, because you are my God. You are whom I pray to. Let’s find parts of each other we didn’t know existed. I’d rather be demolished by you than be rebuilt by someone else. You’re what holds me together. It’s only fitting you be what destroys me. 

It isn’t real, life keeps reminding me. Over and over again I fall for something that’s not even real and over and over again I’m hooked deeper than before. 

If you’re what weakness feels like, then I don’t ever want to be strong again. //