elaborately designed privately owned spiral galaxy

i think i just want to be your friend again.

i really do think i just want to be your friend again.

can we be friends again?

i miss you.

i miss your honey coloured eyes and your laugh, your chat pinned at the top of my messages, your favorite things at the forefront of my mind, your banter, your concern, your joy, and knowing, knowing you were always just a call away, knowing that you cared, knowing that you were one of my people. 

... and i imagine myself moving deep into the winter and disappearing, and for me it was always with you.

very weird to me to see people who i dont know follow my vent journal.

dont get me wrong, its like, whatever, but why are you here???????????????????????????????????????

with the way my brain works, it is usually difficult and painful to even picture a future after rejection, even more so when the rejection is seemingly rubbed in my face every time i see the person around, even more so when i realize a normal person, not one as damaged as me, would have already gotten over it.

i feel like an insane fool the more it digs into my fucking skin. i never had a claim over you, no real reason for it all to burn my throat and make me bare my teeth. i thought i was good at pretending to be the same person forever but letting my mask down around you and showing you the real me or me(s) means i cant seem to figure out how to put it back on. i think you've noticed too. "and im sorry the way my moods flicker on and off like old light in your porch..."

i guess your love is my destruction, and your destruction is my love. "i carved out a place in this world for two..." but the more i think it through you were never meant to fit in that place.

"you were ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche", idealized images of you still bright and young in my brain, uncomfortably close to the real thing, i really fucking hope no one hears me say this but maybe i never actually idealized you, and you really were that great. i will never be able to find it out for myself, so i guess all i have left for me is nothing but a dream of sinking my claws into you and never letting go, of burrowing deep under your skin, of "bruises on my thighs like your fingerprints."

brown eyes turn amber under the light, but in the darkness, my blue eyes turn green. friends run around us cooing at you and her and it makes me sick, makes me taste the vodka i've just drank right in my mouth again, remembering their encouraging words and soft hands on my back telling me they absolutely got how i felt. did they really? did any of them understand the depths of what i felt? i dont think so, because maybe if they did they would have checked in more. god, i really thought she, of all people, got it. now it seems she cant fucking meet my eye and im happy for that, because i dont know what the beaten child in my brain would tell her without my permission.

please dont worry your sweet little head for me, i told you theres nothing for you to do at this point that wouldnt hurt us all. "i think the choice is obvious", i said that night, or maybe you did, or someone else, but i dont think its that obvious anymore. i think maybe its time we disband our little gang and i surrender to the horrible and always present need to run away. emotional isolation is my only respite. maybe if you never saw me again, you'd be happier. maybe if i never saw you again, the voices in my brain would shut the fuck up.

"9:09, you gonna call it or am i?"

after everything ive gone through in my short life, i think this is objectively the best way this could have ended up going, but there is still this feeling of discontent brewing deep in my stomach. i dont think there is much to be said anymore, nothing i could ever pronounce out loud, but i still feel words stuck right under my adams apple, threatening to bubble up on every occasion where i think of the way your eyes shine under the radiance of the sun.

it has been my mantra since i figured it out, since i realized the sole image of you in my brain made me smile, the short phrase of "i can't believe he doesnt know how pretty he is". maybe its just the way my retinas catch the light that bounces off of you, but there is something divine in every corner of your body and mind. i am content just looking at you, at your smile, at your eyes, at your hands, at your hair, at every small detail, just to commit them to memory forever, in case i forget what beauty looks like.

youve managed to find and smooth down every single one of my harsh spikes, tame down the attack dogs in my brain, made yourself a warm nest in the clockwork machinery of my heart without even realizing. you could break me down with just a press of your thumb to the divot of my nape, and i'd go down without any fight in my bones. keep me pinned to the ground just with the soft melody of your bittersweet voice, telling me about everything and nothing at the same time.

it was terrifying to realize that it was more than just mere infatuation, more than just small bedtime stories with your face in them, and it had crossed over to wanting to lay my head on your shoulder and stay there, melt into your touch forever, holding you when you needed support, memorizing the way your body's weight felt leaning against mine. carving open a door into your world and have you lead me around it, showing me every corner of your mind.

but you've made it clear where we stand now, and its unfair to you for me to dream of this still, to hold on to this vision of finding you a place in my life, of you finding me a place in your life, to the bedtime stories of dates and moments shared and lived. oh but could you blame me, though? could you blame me for clinging to that warm blanket of a feeling that is infatuation, fondness, adoration, dare i even say love? at the end of the day i was born to feel this, although i find it deeply cruel the way ive never been able to get this feeling returned to me, and it stings like alcohol on a cut to realize youre not going to be the one to return it.

i never meant to make it your problem, to change the way you saw me, to burden you with the weight of my affection. even the idea of a shift in the way you got close to me, in the pressure of your touch on my skin, in the undertones of your voice, it made me shiver in panic. i'm not crazy, right? its not insane to think that maybe me opening my heart could shatter this friendship we've built. you claim it wont, that it hasnt, that i'm still your friend, but you cant blame me for still fearing.

you're lovely. i hope the next person to show you this adoration is someone you love back.

"what was it really?" she asks, and i cant find it in me to scold her for asking things we dont want to think about. "nothing, i suppose," i reply in the tone of voice people tend to take when they know their answer is the truth but they dont like it. she frowns and her lips quiver. i wait for the screams that never come. shes silent, today.

my heart thrums with the force of the sea that once tried to claim me, your veins run with the call of the great wilderness. it makes sense we never meshed. different wavelengths, different places, different ideas. i knew youd never go along with whatever terrifying facsimile of love id conjured up, but goddamn it if it doesn't hurt to know.

all you wanted was for me to run behind you and i guess thats what you got. ive tried to stop but i see you going off in the distance and everything in me shakes with the need to follow, i dont want to be away from you, but my feet are starting to ache.

tell me all your sweet nothings. keep me guessing, keep me hoping. and everytime you feel down ill do anything to help and you'll smile that pretty smile and then keep showing me how i could never be yours.

desire is a bizarre thing, isnt it. because loving you this hard knowing youll never be mine is the slowest form of suicide ive ever seen but i can't keep myself from feeling it, because my fingers feel incomplete if theyre not on your waist, because my ears feel lonely if i cant hear your lovely laugh.

the stars told me about you and i think they're filthy liars. ill never believe them again. ill burn them all down to feel your warmth.

some people are made for love, and to be loved, and some people, like me, have to live off of scraps and fantasies.

metro tracks and reassuring hands on your shoulders. giggles and shared earbuds. oh how beautiful is love when it's doomed, one-sided and made to destroy. you're nothing but a wrecking ball and im a wall ready to crumble under your strike. i'll be ok as long as i get to hear your honey coated voice during the demolition.

oh, in another life we'd be perfect for each other. but you're made for greatness, and i'm lapping at the floor of the butchers, desperately trying to find closeness and warmth in the cold blood spilled under my knees. there's entries on the dsm that could have my name as the title. you're doing good by staying away.

but oh how i dream of you! of your voice and your hair between my fingers and your warm to the touch skin. of your knuckles breaking down my face. of worshiping the ground you walk on. of sinking my claws into you, forever and ever and ever and ever...

one day someone will love me with this intensity, but for now, i will live off of fantasies and scraps.

1. go to the bathroom

2. kneel in front of the toilet bowl

3. stick two fingers into your mouth

4. wiggle them around your mouth until you gag

5. repeat until you vomit

6. revel in the beautiful feeling of finally being pure, and having a clean body, and a clean soul, and a spotless conscience.

7. understand what you have done. understand you've, once again, hurt yourself in the name of purifying yourself. understand you've ruined yourself. understand the hurt you bring your friends and family by doing this. feel like a decaying, disordered, sickly, slaughtered little thing on the floor of your bathroom. wonder how you've let yourself hit this point again.

8. repeat steps 1-7 again, and again, and again, until you finally stay clean and pure. alternatively, break the cycle and never do this again. it's your choice.

are you over that horrible self loathing? did you ever stop being a bully? did you stop hating people different to you. have you done anything for your life?

---

i haven't grown since the last you saw my body. it haunts me. i still inhabit the same flesh you lusted over, all those years ago. i hope you get your dick cut off. fuck you for making me this way.

---

are your pets okay? did you move out? i heard your favorite band is releasing music soon. i hurt you and you hurt me and i dont know what that makes either of us.

---

i told you that I was afraid i was too much, that i would scare you off. you reassured me with love in your every word that i wouldn't. what changed? what did i do?

---

sometimes i wish you had actually succeeded. sometimes i wish i had died there, with your hands around my neck, and you had to live with the guilt. the last i heard about you, you were sad and alone. good.

---

was your little game funny to you, you asshole? was it fun to toy with my emotions like that? did you think i was just one more stupid little kid to lead along?

---

i still wonder if you did actually cheat with your friend, like my paranoia told me. i dont know if it would make me feel better, to know you had, or hadnt. im still unravelling the shame you made me feel.

every single time i work up my courage to tell people about the help i need and things theyve done to hurt me and how they can improve and they tell me "i'll keep it in mind", it just means they'll keep doing it.

am i just not worth changing for?