Histrionics

If that’s how you truly feel, that I’m just here for your money and not because I love you, I’ll leave. I’ll work real hard so I’ll never need you again. I’ll work real hard to unlove you and purge your blood from my veins.

“All I want is sex that makes me look like Goku after he fights some really big fight. I’ll be laying there for days just twitching.’

Any time I’m blessed 
With pleasant dreams
I’m haunted by your eyes 
Gleaming like the sea
These words my only message 
I pray you come to me

I’m sorry

So sorry

I forgot to tell you

That I love you

Before I disappeared

In my dreams

It’s you I see

Your vision I can’t escape

No one could replace

But how could I return

I imagine sometimes

That the courage to confess

Will appear when I’ve given up on myself

But all that says about you and I

Is that I couldn’t handle this alive

If I had a way

I’d carry you

Feed you the most decadent

Allow you freedom to the highest degree

Harbor you from harm

So long as you’d return to my arms

Right now

I pray you find no one else

And wait for me to settle

So I can call you back

And stay with me forever

Yeah it’s ok dad. Fuck you too.

By the end of the summer.

I had my first group therapy session.

It came to be my turn to talk and I couldn’t go into detail about my past so I just said “bad things”. One of the guys asked me to clarify, if I felt comfortable. This is the first time someone has asked me to elaborate. So, I did, minimally. My one sentence was enough to make him tear up. 

I started to realize that I am the only one with there with that kind of trauma. 

I hate being so abnormal.

Waking up:

Coffee for breakfast:

Class:

Around campus:

Cute boy:

More class:

On my way to my car and it’s nighttime:

Driving:

Getting home and I see my bed:

Turn off the light. Guess what!:

Oh and:

Turn on light:

Finally sleep:

But inside my head is like:

I can’t pinpoint the night where I stopped leaving my window unlocked and open for Peter. Now I close it, lock it, and shut the blinds, praying that something doesn’t climb in.

Where did this fear come from?

Ugh. I realize the drinking age is at 21 because our brain chemistry and bodies change and become “fully mature” at this point but it’s annoying. I mean, I tear up at everything, any lovey dovey scene, no matter how cheesy, makes me sniffle, I’m on pinterest looking at wedding dresses and cakes and shit. WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME!

And it’s not my time of the month because that’s over .-.

I can hear my dad crying and praying in the next room.

He’s one of the few people that believe me when I say there’s something bad in the next room.