I want you to hold my hand while we go grocery shopping. I want you to play with my hair while we watch tv. I want you to kiss me in the middle of my sentence because you wanted to taste my words. I want you to rub my back as we fall asleep. I want you to sing my favorite song when I look sad. I want you to do these things without having to think about them. Do them because you love me.
I have no family, no friends, nothing. I live with my mom. My dad abused me. He’s lived in another state most of my life. My sister moved out 2 years ago for college and she even admitted she hates me. The rest of my family members disowned me. That’s it. For years. Loneliness. Stuck in this house...
If u need to talk I’m here
I recall myself telling people to hold me tight and never let go countless times but it was all meaningless. I have this fucked up idea in my head that someone will come into my life and hold me tighter than ever before and finally mesh all of my broken pieces back together. I’ve come to the realization that that’s pure bullshit. Even your soulmate can’t fix you. You may think that they will and maybe you start to feel better for a little while but I promise you that those very demons that you thought finally subsided from your head will come back one night and haunt you. They will haunt you far more powerful than ever before and you will break. You will break into oblivion. And that my friend, is the dangers of depression. It sneaks up on you and destroys you. I’ve lost this battle against my demons. I’m not myself anymore. And that can only mean one thing; the demons, my demons, have taken full control over me
i’m not jealous because i don’t trust my significant other
i’m jealous because i don’t believe in myself and my worth
and i’m convinced anyone could be better compared to me
my jealousy isn’t violent or restrictive to them
it’s sadness and self-doubt
I like how sleeping next to someone means more than sex sometimes, the body’s way of saying ‘I trust you to be by my side at my most vulnerable time,’ you have no defenses when you are asleep, you tell no lies.
Love. Love is what? As I lay here contemplating the meaning of such a complicated and simple word, I for the first time in my life find myself unable to write. I am frozen with my pen a hairline away from the paper as I try to force the words to flow. Suddenly the words that come to mind begin to pour out of me like a raging river that has burst through a dam, they are heart breaking.
Love is.. love is when they were supposed to hold you after a traumatic event and they tell you it’s your fault. But hey, they love you.
Love is when your world is crumbling and they say suck it up because they love you.
Love is every time they made you feel less than you’re worth and now every time someone walks in, you don’t think you’re good enough. Or every time they made you feel hard to love, so now you think you can’t be loved by anyone. It’s every negative thing they’ve done to you, but excused it with love.But as these words angrily rip through the lines of my tear stained journal I cannot help but laugh and wipe away my tears. Love is none of that. Those actions lacked any love and were excused by a four letter word that let you believe it was okay… Love is the time your friend dropped everything for you to make sure you’re okay. Love is every moment you were stuck in traffic to go help someone and drop off ice cream and chocolate because life’s been rough. Love is holding someone the way you wanted to be held when you remember every bad thing that’s happened to you. Love is seeing someone’s black parts and reminding them they’re gold too. Love is all the things you’ve ever wanted, but only friends gave you, or you gave yourself. Love is everything you felt was missing in every relationship of your life. Love is everything you gave others. Love is everything you were never given by the people who should’ve showered you with it.
Love is me letting you know it’s okay to take off that mask of how okay you are and be sad and cry and curse out the world. Love will be me reminding you it’s not your fault. Love is everything I intend to give you that you didn’t know was possible.
It’ll be hidden in the small things too. In the way I can have the prettiest view but be staring at you. It’ll be in the flowers I bring just because you’re running through my mind. It’ll be in the words of my journal that I’ll forever be writing in and I’ll hand you one day. It’ll be in the way I hold your hand when life is rough or the way I high five you when you’ve accomplished one of your goals. It’ll be in every time I drive safe to get us home, because lord knows my driving is insane. And it’ll be in every good action I exude.
And for the days I mess up? Those days where you’re reminded I’m not perfect? I promise I’ll never excuse it with the word, “love.”
You have no idea of how much i wanted to hold your hand. I want to kiss you and whisper the words i love you. I really want to hug you so tight to make you feel better and take away all the pain that you feel. I always think of you everyday, even when i am busy doing something. You are always here in my mind and in my heart. Your voice is the sound that i would love to listen every now and then. Your laugh that never fails to make me smile, it’s like a music to my ear. I wanted to keep you in me and never let you go. I only want you and i am willing to fight for you. But i should know where to stand in your life. I should keep in mind that i can’t have you. I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the first place. Because it’s prohibited. Because you’re not mine.
because someone else have you (via girlbehindthisblog)
Up until a little over a year ago… This was my life.
I loved her not for the way she danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons
I fucking hate how every cutter says they are proud of their scars. I am certainly not proud of mine. Fuck having scars from head to toe. That isn’t beauty, that is disgusting. It’s even worse that I’ve gained a huge amount of weight because of my clinical depression. I FUCKING HATE MYSELF. No, I do not have a skinny body. No, my scars aren’t beautiful. I am ashamed of who I am and who I was.
There’s no pride in having a scars but I can tell you that when things get bad I look at mine and tell my self I am better than I was… I’m not perfect but these scars are who I used to be not who I am now…. They remind me I am stronger than I once was….. And as for you…. U are a beautiful person with a troubled life…. but You Will make it…. I’m here to help if you make this journey…. You don’t have to do it alone.
“You are the first person I ever showed my heart to and you are the reason no one will ever see it again.”
— atelophobiaxx // Nada Toghoj
depravedfantasies