I might be too young to settle down and marry, but I’m definitely too old to be playing anymore games. I’m too old to just be talking to someone, too old to not know what’s really going on, and too old to be entertaining somebody with no intention of making it work. At this age, I’m only interested in consistency, stability, respect and loyalty. And I want to hear someone tell me that they love me and know they Goddamn mean it.
You do care. You care so much it’s eating you away. You hate the fact that you care so much but it’s the only thing you know how to do but you constantly lie to yourself just so you can get through the day.
You’re an interesting species. An interesting mix. You’re capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you’re not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.
I ruin everything. I think that a bullet must have passed through my heart when I was very young, causing me to bleed out slowly, over things and people and every white surface that I’d ever come across.
For so many years, I couldn’t understand why every time I thought that someone finally loved me, like… for real, they would eventually turn to vapor. Every person whom I’ve ever loved is trapped inside of my chest. I’ve breathed all of them in so deeply that I’ve nearly choked and died on every soul that I’ve ever given myself to.