I still want to call you-
gush about my day.
Hear your laughter over the phone-
feel your smile from hundreds of miles away.
I almost do-
but then I remember I haven't heard your voice in months.
I don't want reality to crush my dreams.

A seemingly innocent phrase-
"that'd be an awkward way to meet someone."-
has me transported back in time.
A time of love- and laughter.
Even though I was with you-
all I heard-
saw-
smelt-
felt-
was him.
For the rest of the day I found myself-
comparing the two of you.
Weighing the pros and cons.
Trying to remind myself,
he is the past and you are the present.
****.
Nostalgia is a *****.

I finally understand why you aggravate me so.

You call all the shots-

I lack control.

I don’t have control over the situation-

and although it interests me-

it frightens me more.

I've been out of therapy for over 2 years.
As far as my parents are concerned-
my self hatred was just a blimp.
A spot in my seemingly perfect high school career.
I pulled over a 4.0 so I must be okay.
She got a boyfriend.
She got healthy.
She must love herself now.
Little do they know-
my pulse still quickens at the mere thought,
of tearing into my own flesh.
My body pumps with adrenaline if I don't automatically push the idea away.
Sorry mom.
Sorry dad.
I'm not really all that better.
Just better at lying.