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fray narte Aug 2019
I wish you told me that wounding my knees was a part of the joy and that my hair already looked perfect in waves, and that bedtime stories weren't lame. I wish you told me these when I was a kid, instead of giving me the cliche ******* — those spilled stories over spilled beers about how you were forced to marry Mom instead of that girl named Beth.

We were caught in a story, the one with that school money thoughtlessly flung on the floor, road trips arguments and drunk-driving over eighty, and nonexistent goodnight kisses and hugs. As a kid, I believed those were the indicators of affection and love. But they're not and had I known that earlier, I wouldn't have stayed with someone who walked all over my mental health
with someone who took me on a desk and spit knives in his drunken slurs,
with someone who dialed another girl's number while thinking I was asleep,
with someone who only dialed my number while he thought his girl was asleep,
with someone who faded in the curtains after he saw my razored wrists,
with someone who said I was his ***** and called it his idea of love.
Had I known it earlier, I wouldn't have trusted men who hurt me just as you had. Had I known it earlier, I wouldn't have stayed with someone who had a ****** up notion of what love was. Had I known it earlier, I wouldn't have stayed with someone who was exactly like you.

Dad, had I known earlier that abuse wasn't supposed to be confused with love, I would have stayed alone.
fray narte Jul 2019
our falling apart isn’t like having heartbreak lines sitting on my chest, waiting to be written when i wake up and realize you’re gone. it isn’t like sinking into the absence of your coffee-scented lips on my temple, or walking into a dust storm caught in the sunbeams in your room. it isn’t like those cold, two a.m. nights where you find yourself singing stay with derek sanders and breaking down into a puddle of unbearable pain, hoping that each guitar strum will take you away from our memories.

no, our falling apart isn’t like that. it isn’t immaculate.

it isn’t an indie-film-kinda-heartbreak, nor is it poetic.

you see, we fell apart simply because you loved me — you loved me so ******* much, darling.

and i wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
Jade Welch Mar 2019
Is that what you want?
You want an apology?
Well, ok then.
I am sorry.
Sorry for believing your lies.
Sorry for listening to all your empty promises.
Sorry for thinking you were different.
Sorry for laughing at your dumb jokes.
And, sorry for falling in love with you.

But most of all, I am sorry that in the thick of it all, whilst thinking you really loved me back, I fell out of love with myself.

I am so so sorry.

— The End —