It hurts.

I saw you leave today without saying anything. That isn’t out of the ordinary anymore but it hurts. I keep hoping that the next time you’ll say something. Or atleast look at me. I was alone in the aisle and my eyes filled with tears. You were long gone before you could see it happen.

I don’t even know if I’m allowed to say anything to you anymore. I mutter around you at the most and even that feels like too much.

You understood the greyscale and the colors and the thorns and the petals. You understood the 412 and that alone meant more than you could imagine.

I make eye contact and break it fast because even a second too long, I’ll shutdown. I really don’t know how much longer I can take this.

I know you won’t see this because you don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I just hope that someday we’ll go back to how we were before.

every rose has its thorn
and i was just the one in your side.

the amount of genuine joy i may have given,
is overshadowed by the pain i caused.

there was always a maybe and im sorry i didnt act on it
when it felt the strongest
but i promise:

no matter how wilted you become,
you are still important as you were when you were flourishing.

i've said this over and over
but im sorry.

i really am sorry.

It's been a back and forth motion:

losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
  maintaining
losing

for nearly a decade.

I can't seem to find* my way back up from this downward spiral
and I'm losing more than mass as I descend.

I don't have anyone close enough to stop me. Not that I'd let them anyways.

I'm going to keep
losing and
losing and
losing.

I'll turn sideways and disappear.
Shrivel up into .nothing.

And maybe then,
   just then,
I might feel valid.

(*correction: I can but I refuse to.)

I'm becoming more distant from myself again.
I don't really feel like me anymore.
The fog seems to be drifting back into my mind
and I don't have a sun to burn through it.

I need to get away for good and start over
but I can't go without the guarantee that
being far away from here will clear the dense cloud.

All motivation to be human has been lost.
I'm hoping to soon become completely void of existing.

I'm shrinking.

Further and further from sight.

You are 800 miles away and I am slowly but surely disappearing out of view.

You are the only one who matters to me but yet I continue to break your heart with my self destruction.

Forgive me for withering away while we were apart.

You just became so distant physically while I, mentally.

When you fall out of love after a year
and try to end the relationship so you don't lead them on,
you don't really expect the other person to try to **** them self.

Manipulation isn't fun.
Especially when you are the only one who sees it.

Staying in the relationship for a whole extra year when it should've ended when the fallout happened, is mindblowing.

I didn't want to stay. I wanted to be free.
I wanted to do what I wanted.
I wanted to hang out with my own friends and go out without the guilt of leaving my significant other alone.
I couldn't leave the house unless they were at work or with friends.
No one sees it the way I do.

I asked for space and got in response "I don't know how long I can do that"

Well that's nice but this isn't about you.
Everything was always about you.

I finally ended it and I never felt so free.

I’ve always been small.
Height-wise and generally, weight-wise, too.
But for some reason, it clicked in my head that I couldn’t be 110 anymore.
100 was one digit too many.

95 was 5 too heavy.

1000 was 800 too many for a day.

48 hours of emptiness wasn’t enough.

I’ve never been overweight or anywhere near. I’ve been at a lower weight my whole life.

Its never really been about losing weight but I can’t stop myself from making it become a goal.

I’m falling back into bad habits.

I’m wilting. Decaying.

For awhile things were a greyscale.
I saw things on a scale from white to black. I thought the lighter the grey, the better I was feeling.

Then I met you and you made me see color. There were lavenders and turquoises and maroons and golds.

The greys were just a fog and you were the sun to clear it.

I can't tell where the sound of my lungs end and my heartbeat starts.

They blur together similarly to how his body and mine are entangled under the layers of blankets. From another perspective, no one knows who is who and what is what.

My lungs are so disappointed in me. I breathe in nicotine more often than I should.

I've poisoned my veins and liver with cheap *****.

My eyes have grown sullen and heavy. Dark bags have found refuge under my tearducts.

My head was in her lap.
Her friend was driving fast.
Too fast. Way too fast.
She wrapped her arms around me.
It was cold and late and I'm in a stranger's car.
No. I met him that morning. It's fine.
Oh god. Are we going to crash?
She hushed me.
Have I been shivering this whole time?
She laid her jacket over me as a makeshift blanket.
The car is still too fast.
The music is too loud and it's dark.
Am I dying? No it's fine. She's got me.
How long has it been since we left?
Oh ****, wasn't he drinking?
We're going to die. Why did I come with?
She tells him to slow down.
I somehow mutter out a sorry to him.
I'm laying in the backseat of a half-stranger's car.
The leather interior is sticking to me.
It's not as cold as it was before.
…
…
…
Am I still awake? I can't move.
Did I die? No, I still feel her there.
She's rubbing my back, I think.
I'm asleep. Wait am I? Yes.
I think so. It's okay.
We're at her house.
We made it.
I made it.
It's okay.

We talked again for the first time in over a year.
My heart raced as I pulled up to your small house near the busy freeway.
We talked and sat in silence, all while we chain smoked.

Not even a month later, texting you made my stomach churn,
and not even in a good way.

Your depression didn't mix well with my own.
We should have learned the first time.

I'm sorry for leaving you, I just couldn't be around you anymore.

I'm sorry that I cry a lot
and that my hands are too cold to hold.
I'm sorry that I get so sad that all I do is sleep.
I'm sorry that I stay up for 3 days straight sometimes.
I'm sorry that some days I just can't eat and all I do is drink water.
I'm sorry that I cry a lot and that I'm such a *****.
I'm sorry that I won't let my wounds close and that I pick at the scabs.
I'm so sorry that I avoid leaving the house because I can't stand the thought of socializing.
I'm sorry I can't pay for your gas when you drive me places.
I'm sorry I can't get a job because I smoke when I get sad.
I'm sorry for begging for ***** as a present.
I'm sorry if the nightlight keeps you from sleeping.
I'm sorry I stood in the middle of the street when I saw a car coming towards me
and I'm sorry you had to pull me out of the way.
I'm sorry I **** at writing and won't show you what I wrote.
I'm sorry I won't tell you how I feel and whats going on in my head.
I'm sorry that I can't make you feel better when you're down.
I'm sorry that I would steal things I didn't need from stores I didn't like.
I'm sorry I punched the wall multiple times when I thought about you.
I'm sorry that I refuse to see a therapist.
I'm sorry I shower with all the hot water.
I'm sorry that I say "what if..." so much.
I'm so sorry that I exist.
*I'm so ******* sorry that I exist.