u/AspectSad5700

there’s someone who would laugh at her for saying something like this, because they know her as someone entirely different than what’s actually inside her mind‘s eye at all times, and if i’m being realistic, many could say the same. the mask she wears is larger than life, as an amalgamation of everyone she’s ever known, and especially of those she’s loved, or lost. it hides just about everything except physical tears, blemished and wounds. she calls it her “blankie”; it’s obviously no blanket, but, it’s her only constant, consistent comfort and has been the entirety of this life, and likely the last as well. no one held onto the things she loved from her childhood, nor youth.

truthfully she doesn’t exist to anyone besides the records, of which she refuses to read, and also from memories she cannot trust any longer.

trust that she’s had plenty of things she wished to keep forever but, alas, the girl is afflicted. she’s always been seen as the problem, tragically fragile beyond what both her body and brain allow capacity for, and somewhere in the depths of all she’s become, she is pure. albeit her body that’s defiled from years of misuse, by rough hands that didn’t give a fuck about her unless her jaw was parted to take it, and albeit the never-ending abyss in her brain, she is pure. each mask peels off ever so carefully, but rarely has anyone made it to the final wall. those that have were battling excalibur, the tears and rips useless. she would rather sacrifice her own flesh than ever be seen again, haunted from the endlessly daunting question of why.

her blankie protects her from the horrors once bestowed upon her, old and new, therefore she calls it her sword and shield. she hasn’t always been like this though, nor is she ever just like this for fun, contrary to what you hear otherwise.

the girl is a garden, of sorts, where totality finds her under the gibbous as it wanes. she’s powered in the moon’s glow, and by nobody‘s accord but hers. there’s orchids and daisies of every color, and the sunflowers galore! it is a beautiful sight. the cathedral of her mind has ceilings vaulted the heavens, with walls adorned in all the colors imaginable to choose to her liking. the colors are her moods, reflections of memories and people, of love and greatly from loss. she’s golden draped in silver, sapphire and moonstone, but the eyes are storm cloud grey-green, full of promise. hopefulness. something the real world doesn’t see from her often.

the garden is most alive when she’s loved to the fullest. three decades almost completely barren, you tend to lose sight of yourself and the potential you possess, and that’s exactly why she can’t believe that, finally, she’s found home. home, and with humans who treat her kindly. those that don’t rush her. they ask little but receive more whilst they give everything, and help make her whole.

in the quiet night, when the world is asleep, when you should be resting before a long day — find me on the evergreen underfoot with no intention except exploring what we both won’t risk saying out loud.

your smile today melted me, you know. you’re so fucking handsome it’s hard to focus on anything, and i get so nervous, but i think you know that.

why are you doing that thing, exactly? the sweet thing, the thing(s) that make my heart go from 100 to 0 in a matter of seconds, because the look in your eye makes me believe you can see that life, too. maybe not with me, though it wouldn’t be so bad, right? please stop doing the things. the sweet things. i can’t handle anymore. i want to thank you in all the ways, softest and dirtiest, but i can’t. i can’t even hug you, but the thought of being wrapped up by you? fuck. please stop doing the sweet things.

signed, a girl interrupted

finding out

your wife

is in these subs

after cheating,

after the infidelity,

is like

finding out

the world does stop turning

when your heart

is broken.

to someone;

you were right, by the way. shockingly so.

i do know you, and that’s exactly why i called things out in the manner i did, when i did it. the thought of depending on anyone too much rattled you to your bones, this i understand, because every time before me you’d lean just to be let go and suffer the crash alone.

yet, were you ever actually alone? i was your constant even then, as teenagers, but you always overlooked me for someone else. i never held it against you, though it wore me down to nothingness. therefore… you realized. i know you did.

each time the intensity rose, you retracted. each time attention was brought to it, off into the void you went. like what we were doing didn’t matter, like i did not matter.

you really did have it good for a while, didn’t you? the best of a world you had no responsibility to. you became everything to me and i had to beg for the bare minimum the second i acknowledged it to you. that’s my fault and i realize that, my lack in boundaries tends to get in the way often. of everything.

and so, in realizing what i meant to you, was to admit you depended on something, someone. me. you couldn‘t deny it any longer, because you’d finally put two and two together! the denial from the past was stripped from you, and you took it as a threat instead of nurtured it.

perhaps you wanted to see if i’d “choose you”, but how could i have chosen someone who’d hide that from me whilst i begged for clarity? you were unsafe for me after proving you could be safe. i have enough hardships, too many things going on at once. you used to be so steady, so reliable, that the times you weren’t didn’t affect me this badly. you knew the hell i was sitting in, the reflection of a girl you knew in the past, barely hanging on with her life at the hands of betrayal, and still you had no qualms in contributing to my pain further.

you did want to depend on me, too. you considered it and, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for whatever made you decide nevermind - i would’ve done something to change your mind if you’d have let me - i could’ve been everything you told me you wanted, that you needed, and more. i really wanted to be.

i forgive you for holding your projections against me. i get it in my own way, i didn’t come into this completely clean and i could've done things differently myself, but the outcome wouldn’t be better and we both know that. your mind was made up years ago, when your inner child was freshly wounded, a notion that carried into now and has ruined the person you are.

“why do you cry alone when you’re the one there for everyone else?” i felt that about you for the ways you loved me, i feel it toward myself more so today though. i should have you to lean on, i did deserve it.

however it was never about, or because of, me. both sides are aware.

and you’ll say it is anyway, so you don’t have to admit i’m the actual one that got away, to those in your life that‘ve tried to scope the depths of what you feel for me out, whom you lie to and deflect at when you call them wild for thinking such things (i’ve heard it from the horses mouth, i promise).

we agree that your lack of denial is strange. neither here nor there, i guess. water under the bridge. homies 4L, right? at a distance. apart of my everyday for 5 months without question & gone in a day, yet i won’t tell you how that’s hurt me.

from no one.🌙