Feeling like nothing is keeping me here, and no one would notice if I were gone.
lala-lovesie said: Have you ever fallen for the very last person you should have? Motivated by projected curiosity.
Thank you. I used to be very guilty about the whole situation, it took a lot of time and reflection. But now I think, what the hell? If you are honest and open things will just happen as they are meant to.
Hmmm… what an interesting question. This really made me take a moment to think.
I would have to say yes, the last person I fell for originally had a girlfriend, and was a bit of a ladies man. I also worked with him, and at the time all my friends thought I was crazy to fall for him. I thought I was too, but I was so attracted to him. And yes, I was curious. That was what drew me to him so much, he was mysterious to me, I was unhappy where I was and I wanted to experience what he had to offer.
But I don’t think you can really say who you should and shouldn’t fall for. We can’t help it, feelings are feelings. It was hard at first to deal with those feelings, we had a lot to sort out because we weren’t in the right situation to be together. But 6 months later we did start dating (even though my friends told me not to) and we wound up living together and had quite a happy relationship while it lasted. So in short, yes I have done that. But I don’t think it was bad to act on my curiosity, and I also don’t know if I can say anymore that he was the last person I should have fallen for. I did fall for him and I liked it, who is to say who we should and shouldn’t be with?
I love your lack of shame or guilt over it, very refreshing perspective!
Your stench is everywhere. That salty, sweet smell that wafted off your warm skin, that clung to our bedsheets after you’d already gone.
You kissed me on every street in this goddamn city, made me laugh on every avenue. When I say certain words your voice echoes them back to me, I swat at memories of you like flies that won’t leave. Your name suddenly seems to appear on signs everywhere, like it never did before. I never thought I could dread the sight of four letters being strung together, but there you go. I am afraid of them, I will admit that out loud. I am afraid of your name because it keeps me awake at night, tossing and turning as I drift in and out of sleep, in and out of love with you.
I can’t get dressed without missing how you would get down on your knees and kiss every inch of skin that you could see, without remembering how you looked at me with so much longing. It used to bother me, I don’t know how to take compliments, you know that. And sometimes I actually just wanted to change in privacy, now that’s all I have. Oppressive privacy. No one could penetrate these walls if they wanted… and yet you still find ways to.
I think it’s your smell. I used to love it so much, I was addicted to it, to you. When you would sleep I would cuddle up close and sniff along your skin, not daring to touch you because it was too electric. I would smell your hair, stroke it with my fingertips, almost daring you to wake up. Notice me, I’d think, touch me.
Even when I felt the weight of stifling sadness, which I did very often, I would still have this longing for you, your touch, your smell. Even when you came home drunk and I’d been alone all night in bed trying to numb my mind so I wouldn’t feel, even when I cringed when you touched me, when I ignored your advances: when you were asleep I would still want you. I would still need you. I would still smell you.
Maybe that was wrong, maybe I was addicted to you. I feel like an addict now, and I have nothing to distract me between this and my next fix. Nothing to keep me going. And you’re fucking everywhere, no matter how much I try to wash and scrub and clean you right out of my life. Your smell has been absorbed into this city, it seeps through fabric, drifts through the cracks in walls.
It’s trying to reach out and hug me. It’s trying to say, it’s ok. I wish it wouldn’t. I wish you would just leave me the fuck alone, I wish you weren’t waiting for me with that lazy smile of yours at every street corner. I wish I didn’t see you when I closed my eyes.
I wish you were dead.
I’d rather you were gone, but you’re still so close. So close
—but I can’t touch you.
I can’t find words to say how much that hurts.
The sadness and loneliness just hit when I’m not expecting them.
I wish I wasn’t the weak one, but I am.
“Just stop caring.”
I think I am losing my mind. I think I am paranoid… pacing back and force. There is this looming anxiety, my stomach is in knots. Don’t think about this, don’t think about that, don’t look over here, don’t remember him, don’t think at all.
I feel like something very bad is going to happen. I thought it already did, but I feel like something bad might happen again. I’m going crazy. I don’t fucking know why I am so afraid, or what I can do about it.