07.01.14: Even in another country the image of you with her, haunts me. How could you? When you knew how guys have treated me in the past?

07.6.14: I think that as more and more time goes by without you giving a **** about me and all the **** that you're putting me through— I think I'm only still in love with the idea of who you portrayed yourself to be. You've told me yourself no one really knows who you are. So when it's 4:27am and you're alone in your bed thinking of the past, I hope you feel alone. I hope you understand that this time I didn't contribute to this war. I have just stayed where I was put while you continue to choose to run around taking your own bullets intended for me. I've gotten hit a few times but you're taking the blunt of it. This one isn't my fault and there's no way for you to pin it on me. You told me once that I needed to take the defense and let guys step up into the offense. **So step up.

you take all the joys out of writing and that's not something i appreciate. you tell us to think as a class however my mind is it's own. i don't think like everyone else. i don't want to. i don't need to pick apart way little detail. sometimes the beauty is in the simplistic. you say you listen to our concerns but you only take the advantage to ridicule and mock. i love to write and don't need you to tell me that i am no good. i know i'm no good. but that does not mean i will stop. writing has gotten me through so much pain in life and you aren't allowed to take that from me. i understand what you're trying to do however you've taken certain liberties that are just not okay.

He pretends not to love her
but every time he looks in the mirror
he sees everything he could've had with her

He pretends not to want her
but every time she says 'hi'
he whispers 'i miss you'
at his phone
but sends 'hey'

He pretends not to need her but hes slowly realizing the sweetness she brought to the air was the only thing he was ever willing to live for

He pretends not to remember her
but when he's crying in the shower,
his tears tell him otherwise

He pretends not to dream of her but when he wakes from night terrors and a sweaty brow, he realizes it's her absence haunting him

He pretends not to notice the flowers in his driveway that she planted
three years ago for his mother
and fights the urge to rip them from the ground

He pretends to shut her out but he knows he can never let her go without losing himself in the process

But I wasn't drunk, and I didn't let her touch me. I was just lonely. You're so far away at times, and I mean that in all different ways. So what? She made me laugh. So what? We sounded happy? So what? You were so sure that what you saw was what was happening behind closed doors that my explanation and excuses meant nothing anymore. I was wrong in my decision. I was wrong to come home to her. I wouldn't forgive me either but you've punished me since. You've taken the only things I looked forward to away from me. You. Maybe we knew too much about each other. Maybe when we first met everything was safe and good because we were strangers. But I don't want to believe that. And you don't either. There isn't any amount of time or space or distance or words that will make this easier. I do love you. I knew when you almost let me die.

04.4.14: I don’t need you

05.1.14: I don’t need you!

05.28.14: Three months in and I wish you would tell me why but I think that would **** me even more.

I just want one of those forbidden romances where you'll sneak out together and drive along a back road and listen to songs that tug your heart strings and sing at the top of your lungs. God, I want that so bad. I'm willing to wait for it, but ****. I've been waiting for too long.

No you don't. Because when it all comes crashing down all you have is a sea of memories and no one to tell them too because it was "forbidden" in the first place. You feel sick by looking at your body in the mirror. Their touches burned into your skin, the images seared on your mind. It's not glamorous. It's not tasting him in your cigarettes or empty beds in lovely little hotels. It's not rainy afternoons where the air wraps around you like he did or cups of coffee the color of his eyes. It's just a lot of shaking and crying and hyperventilating and blood. The words i love you* will never come out the same. They leave you clutching at your chest and clamoring down the hall just for some air. They leave you empty. They twist around your body and cut off your blood circulation. Forbidden romance is a fine fantasy. But keep it there because it isn't reality and will never be able to exist. Save yourself the time and just read a book about it.