The first time around you thought everything was good but then he started ignoring your texts, avoiding you in the halls, not looking your way in class. Yeah, you were hurt trying to figure out what happened, what could you have possibly done. But nothing compares to the fifth time around. By this time at some point in all of this you formed a thick skin. It's almost as if you became impermeable..impenetrable..maybe numb to the pain. As time goes on and he leaves, comes back, you let him back in, repeat. You believe that he's changed and all of his promises will be fulfilled but you know better to fall for that again. Deep down you know that this is a cycle and he hasn't changed at all in a matter of two weeks he'll be ignoring you again. But, you still go for it. This behavior comes habitual. Crying so hard, screaming his name, sending him texts like "please talk to me, I don't know what I did.", not getting a response back, wanting to die, that doesn't become habitual. After the first few times you realize he's always going to come back so you start to think "Maybe this is love." Maybe it is some morbid variation of love, but it's not the kind you need--it's not the kind anyone needs. Now you're thinking "This is okay I can deal with this, he comes back to me regardless and I, him. He's my person and I will always love him." Your 'soulmate' has hurt you so bad that you've become accustomed to the pain, your reality has become so warped that you believe being made to feel worthless and unappreciated is love. The omnipresence of pain has suffocated you and you've been without oxygen for way longer than 7 minutes now because this omnipresence has made you believe that hurting 21 days out of a 30 day month is okay because those last 9 days he finally looked your ******* way in class and he finally texted you back. That is not love. And the fact that you believe that goes to show that evolution is real.

im just a crazy little girl who's in love with a boy who's in love with someone else. i'd make the last 9 months and 11 days go away if i could because this **** was disastrous. i'll be ******* honest i went into this thinking i was better than her and prettier than her and more beneficial to him than she was and i'm constantly getting knocked the **** out for having such malicious intentions. i went into this purposely wanting to be the good guy not because it was genuine. i wanted him to choose me over her. i wanted her to hurt about it. it's taken me 9 months and 11 days to realize i will never be able to live up to what she made him felt. i will never be able to give back what i took away from him. i will never make him as sad as she did but i will never make him as happy as she did either. but oh God i do love you and i am so ******* sorry.

My house is not a home because you are not there. I am the tattered shack in the woods you forgot about. My floorboards creak only due to the whiplash of the memories. The memories of your kisses barging in loosening all of the nuts and screws that kept the door on its hinges. In the back room there's a hole in the wall your echo left behind and thunder from the storms somehow fill it with your voice and I get so confused because I think it's you coming back but it's more of a cycle of psychosis and it's all a figment of my psychosis this isn't even my own imagination I can't seem to get you out and I'm not talking about this tattered shack anymore because I'll always have you with me, I'll always have you in me, you are always going to be here where ever I go no matter how deep I try to cut  no matter how drunk I try to get no matter how long I am sedated for this house is not a home because no one is there not even myself.

you walk upon flowers and wonder why you destroy everything as you respirate. you cannot destroy matter. with every blink of yours your eyelashes cause gusts wind that spread pollen and creates trees. with every breath you take you fill with all of the troubled vitality and convert it into love, you exhale the love engulfing anyone in your God given path, for it's that small boost of confidence they get every now again and they feel so great about themselves. you are not destroying flowers when you step upon them you are fertilizing them, that's why you leave bouquets in your wake. when you cry it causes a storm in the earth's atmosphere, you are not killing the sun baby girl, you are merely rejuvenating the terrane's  verdure. when you speak your frequencies are depicted upon sheet music and people will try to learn you.  And you can defy gravity don't let anyone try to tell you that you can't because you are the fruit of the world and you are **** beautiful.

if i pour myself into someone else's glass what happens when they leave me there with my own condensation dropping into small puddles. everything has been poured out of me and i'm in the middle of the desert looking for a raindrop in the sand dunes. i forgot what it's like not to just depend on myself for everything i've ever needed and i feel so ******* abandoned i'll blame everything on you and wonder why you left me out in the ocean when you know i'm afraid of the ******* waves. i just want your riptide in my perimeter so you can pull me so close i'll go under and drown because that's so much better than being alone in this ******* town. i'll miss you so much i'll forget how to breathe and how to sleep and everyone keeps asking what the **** is wrong with me. i keep searching for bits and pieces of you in random places but my favorite place to search is the bottom of the shot glass and i keep looking in the same ******* place as if i'll find you there. i never ******* find you there and by the end of the night glass is on the floor and there's throw up in my hair.
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i use to spend my days curled up in bed wondering why you didn't love me like you said you did a month ago. on the days i was able to ignore the crippling pain, i got up and sat in my shower gasping for air as i bathed in my own tears. i thought i had lost you, but the only thing i had lost was myself. i'd go days without eating and still ending up purging upon my own body, punishing myself for never being enough for you; for anyone. i tried to find myself within other people and it wasn't until now that i realized i was steady trying to put together the wrong set of broken pieces.

i was going to say we're like spilled milk and we're crying over each others remnants and then i was going to say we're like black cups of coffee because there's something in our element that ignites something inside of us but i think we're more like knocked over, broken shots of ***** because though we've made a mess of ourselves we're still licking the alcohol off the ******* bar even though glass shards are transfixing our tongues