There once was a boy who fell for me
but I missed the train he got on,
I watched it leave.
I saw his tears from the window,
but I just waved goodbye and let him go.
I could say I’m sorry over and over
but it won’t change last October.
Maybe I never should’ve came to his house that night,
maybe right now he’d be alright.
I have a habit of breaking hearts,
because mine is too.
I wish I could be in love with you.

My mental health is deteriorating and nobody cares!
I ask for help but I’m met with blank stares.
“You’re over dramatic, all women are the same.”
It’s no wonder good girls end up going insane.
I feel like a ghost lost in my apartment,
trying to find someone to share my heart with.
Can someone for once just care about me?
Why am I so easy to leave.

I felt my voice catch in
my throat when he approached
the window.
I swallowed the tears and waited
for him to get inside.
As I slowly drove he asked me
how I’ve been,
I said good, mhm.
The silence was so loud
and he tried to cover it up by
telling me about how he’s been
busy fixing up his apartment.
He directed me to the storage unit
which wasn’t far.
I watched him sift through a few
boxes to find the pans and utensils,
carrying anything to the car
that’s mine.
When that was it he walked up
to me and we just looked at
each other.
I reached out first
and he hugged me close,
wrapping his coat around me.
That’s when I felt the tears coming back
I tried to stop them
but ever since we split all
I have wanted is his arms around me.
He said,
you know I love you right.
I nodded.
On the drive back he made small talk
and tried to make me smile,
and then we were back.
He told me he’s sorry again
and that it isn’t me.
He said to be good and try to have fun.
I hugged him again
and then he was gone.
It’s the last day of the year
and it’s the last day I’ll see him.
Our story is over.

Today I woke up feeling sad, and I had a good cry about it for a minute and knew that today was the day to get a little retail therapy.
I went in search of something that would make me feel hot.
I found a blue jumpsuit with a floral pattern and when I tried it on it accentuated all of my curves while making me look thin, and honestly the ***** has never looked better.
I bought it along with a cute shirt and a cheap little tank top.
When I got home I took a picture in the jumpsuit and posted it to Instagram.
Dan texted me and said, ***.
I replied, what?
He sent the photo I posted and said, where have you been hiding all my life? ***.
The goal to find something to make me feel hot totally worked.
Sometimes all you need are new clothes to brighten your mood.

I keep thinking about
how I wasn’t planning on
being here,
right now.
And I’m kind of annoyed
that I am because
I am still in pain.
So I’m sitting in my car
at the park,
looking up out of
the sun roof into the
leaves that become
bright green when the sun
hits them.

It is a beautiful day.
The first day of Summer.

He referred to us hanging out
as a date.
I watch his tik tok videos
and I don’t know if he knows
that or not.
But he called me Aphrodite
and told a story about
something I said.
I am over here smiling
and kicking my feet
either way.
When I left his house
he put his arms around me
and kissed me,
thanking me for coming over.
I’ve been floating ever since.
Having a crush is so fun.

I know I can’t
control anything
except myself.
And I can barely even do that.
But
I don’t want to have to
negotiate terms and services
in order to get him
to want to hang out with me.
He and I used to relate
on the crippling loneliness
we feel.
And I thought we were going
to help get rid of that,
for each other.
But it went from twice a week
to once a week.
From him asking to see me
to me begging
to see him.

I don’t know what to do
anymore.
I will always be alone.

Thinking about him is like looking over a gate
through the opening of the trees that leads
out to a field.
I’m in here.
He’s out there.
He waves and turns to walk away.
And with him goes all the years and
all the time we spent together.
But it’s a nice day.
The sun is shining and there’s a slight breeze.
I don’t know how something so
beautiful could feel so sad.

I’ve spent so much time sitting on the floor, slowly picking through the debris to piece myself back together. I was almost whole again when you showed up and helped find the last few shards of glass to rebuild the mirror I look at myself in. I changed. I’m older, stronger. But even you said I still look broken and I see it too. So please be careful.

Sometimes something happens that is so rare it only comes along once in a blue moon.
And it's so good that there's no way it can be real.
It can't really be happening to you.
It feels so weird to be happy because it's all I wanted my whole life.
It's so weird to have this guy in my life who makes me feel everything and is also the most attractive person in so many ways.
Happiness happens, you just have to work really ******* hard and wait a long time for it float by.

Lately everyone's been telling me to focus on myself, put myself first, I deserve better.
But I fear that means I need to be alone.
The depression wants to be alone, that's for sure.
But I don't want to hurt anyone else while I'm trying to stop hurting myself.
But that's how it feels, I think I have come to that point.
I don't know what to do.

I woke up today
asking God how this is fair.
What is wrong with me
that I still love him.
I still miss him every single second.
It’s been 42 days I should be
fully moved on,
talking to someone else.
Or at least just free.
But I am trapped inside
the last 6 years of our life.
I want these memories erased.
I want to forget.

Last night was an example of
how it’s still there.
He didn’t feel like eating
so I blessed a few slices and put
some pizza aside for him.
But he didn’t want me to leave,
so we watched March of the Penguins
on the couch in the old spooning position.
I was falling asleep but I could feel
that he was awake.
His hand searching to pull down
my sweatpants and recreate what
we used to be good at.
And it was really good.
But I’m not falling over drunkenly
in love, I just feel proudly smug
knowing I still got it.

I like when he puts
his arm around me
as I’m laying against
him on the couch,
and he gives me
a little squeeze and says,
my girl.
I like the way it sounds.

I love to over indulge.
Anything I like, I want more of.
Buying one bag of gummies
has lead to buying three bags of candy
way too often
from the convenience store.
Doesn’t matter what it is though.
Drugs, fun, attention, love, ***,
and food.
Right now it’s food.
My least favorite addiction.
I start to feel big in my small jeans,
and see the rolls on my stomach double.
Gross.
Once I start I can’t stop;
it’s a never ending battle to try and
fill the empty spaces inside me.

He called me sweet girl
but I wondered if he
meant it.
I haven’t been very nice
to him lately,
or I haven’t felt
nice towards him.
I hope he didn’t notice.

I love holding your hand because it makes it easier to hang on to you.

It started with a party bathroom.
You push a button and
music and disco lights
explode from the ceiling.
Drinks come in glass boots,
and bubbles spray
out of wooden boats.
Then it’s drinking in a
renovated church
run by lesbians.
A flight of delicious
craft beers.
The bathrooms have
free tampons and pads.
Now you’re stretched out
across the backseat
of his new truck
singing along to
classic country hits
on the way to the last stop.
This place only carries
6% or higher so
now you’re drunk.
You smoke a cigarette
and talk about your old job.
You blast more country
and take the long way home.
It’s a perfect Saturday night.

Once a man loses
interest in you,
you could stand
in front him naked
and he won’t even notice.