elaborately designed privately owned spiral galaxy

as horrible as it is to say, i hoped that what i felt for you was fake. i hoped it was just shallow attraction. i wished, i prayed at night that it was the same infatuation you teased me for feeling about everything and everyone. i wanted it to be fake and shallow and just infatuation, a child's game, playing at loving you like a small kid plays dolls. fake shallow attraction is easy to get over. sure, i feel sad for a bit, but then its something i can easily overcome, because it was never real to begin with. an invisible obstacle doesnt block your path.

the true horror came when i realized it was real.

oh god, i really love you, dont i? it really is deep inside me. it really did take root. it really is just squeezing at my chest. it really is that type of love that will destroy everything in its path.

i thought i was over it and then you flashed your smile at me and it ruined me, it fucking ruined me again, you got me around your finger without even trying, without even wanting it. i know you dont want it. thats why all i want is to fucking exorcise it from my chest, i want it to be fake, i want it to be a game again. i want to never feel this way about you ever again. i want to never care so fucking much about you again. i want you to never be in my dreams again. never never never never.

"ojalá por lo menos que me lleve la muerte/para no verte tanto, para no verte siempre/en todos los segundos/en todas las visiones". god, if i could never see you again without hurting everyone involved, i would. it would hurt you for a bit but you'd understand, wouldnt you? of course you fucking would. understanding, caring, loving, soft, perfect fucking boy. you would understand and that fucking crushes me.

if i started shouting all of this at you, you would take it, you would wait until i tired myself out, you would tell me you understand, because thats just who you are, because you fucking care about me and i hate it, please stop caring for me, please hate me, its all im asking of you. please make it easy to start hating you. please make it hurt less to decide to get away from you.

so pathetic and deeply naive, to think you will change your mind, to think that if i call you enough with my thoughts, you will come back and tell me you love me. "unrequited, terrifying". when will i learn? when will enough be enough? rats have been seen to press a button to shock themselves if not presented with enough stimulation. am i no better than a caged rat? are my thoughts electrocuting me with visions of your joy as a weird, convoluted way to tell me to move the fuck on?

oh, im so fucking disgusted with myself. i feel like i will make it all blow up and it will all be just my fault. and when it all blows up, i wont even have you wiping my tears away, because i will have pushed you away.

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.

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?

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

the year is ending and i feel comfortable closing down the tally: i got my heart broken 3 times this year. maybe i should retire from feelings in the coming year, never feel anything for anyone every again. fill the time with hobbies or something instead of wasting it grovelling over guys. 

ive started working with santa muerte and she's supposed to bring luck in relationships, but i feel like she wont bother with me. it's just rotten work. i'll just let her work her magic with the protection and the fortune.

i'll breathe in trauma and breathe out fire, try and purify myself over and over and over. i'll never be clean. i feel radioactive.

...

i got retraumatized two of those three times. in the same way, and around the same time, too. i got made to feel replaceable, again. there will always be someone nicer. someone cuter. someone better.

ive toyed with the idea of telling the people who retraumatized me just how much damage theyve done to me. hey, i just want you to know: you unmade every single thread of progress i've made since the seventh grade. i tried my best to be the best for you and still you pushed me out of your life like i was nothing. and without explanation too.

but it feels so gross to do that. its not their fault. they didnt intend to hurt me. 

but they hurt me. to the point of breakdown. i dont know.

i think this is one of the things i'll bury deep, i'll let the weeds grow over it. if i close my eyes and pretend it never happened, then it didnt. and i can act normal with them again.

things have gotten worse since i was last here.

every day i wake up and i repeat my mantra, my mantra of asking to please make things better. it feels like i've said "i'll be fine eventually" every day since august and that "eventually" never comes. my brain winds itself up all alone, finding words between the lines of messages and messages in the silences of songs.

its nothing more than a vicious cycle of hurt, self made by my own hands for my destruction. an elaborately designed privately owned spiral galaxy downwards spiral.

i feel like im doomed to love like a serial killer, bloodbaths and entrails and all they entail. though it is unclear who's blood i'd be bathed in. god i hope its mine. i will never harm anyone who isnt me again.



my friend says "be kind to your brain, for it is just a scared dog trying to protect you", but then again, dont dogs that attack for no reason get put down? maybe that would be the way to start over again. find me an organ donor and take out the defective one, give me a fresh slate. i'll pay the procedure out of pocket. i'll play violin while my head is split open so i never forget what music is.

i find comfort in the idea that i've survived worse, but my own brain takes me out of that softness to remember the last time i was this bad it lasted years. god i hope it doesnt last years. i want to be myself again, and i want it quick.

i'm going back to my hometown in a week. i hope this time it finally kills me, like its tried to do since i was born.

it's just one of those days where i can't seem to shake off the thought of you.

i woke up to the memory of your chapped lips on mine.

soft stolen caresses in the middle of the night. bubblegum kisses. pretty boys tangled on friends' bedsheets. lopsided piercings. giggles over the crook of someone's neck. it feels like you've become a ghost that haunts my every move- i feel you everywhere and it drives me insane.

i could call you all the angry names i've held back in my heart, spill out all the rage you've made me feel. but i dont want to, god forbid i run my mouth in front of you and show you just how gross i've become in the time we havent talked. gross in a way you havent seen from me.

but i'm kind of done with blaming myself, running the faucet of my thoughts and plunging my head deep into the bathtub to drown in it and fill my lungs. whatever i did, whatever it was, it didnt mean i had to be treated this way.

i thought of drunk texting you and the idea mortified me so much i felt myself sober up immediately. i have no idea what kind of bullshit i would have said and i have no intention of finding out. even sober the sole idea of being the first to text you makes my head swim and not in the pretty way your hands used to make it. i'm afraid. i think i've become afraid of you. rather, afraid of the way i could treat you.

you want us to be friends but i dont think i can survive like this, at least not while the sight of your eyes mesmerizes me in a way no one should feel about their strictly platonic friend.

i dont know. word barf onto a page usually makes me feel better but i can't seem to shake this sadness. i better go to sleep. goodnight.