Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Wicked

I should have gone with my teenager instincts. When I was thirteen, it was nearly impossible to coexist. Conflicts arose on a daily basis. His communication consisted of yelling incessantly. My constant rebellion, his amateur role; it was a match made in hell. An endless, exhausting power struggle that, on the bright side, always ended in an apology.
Usually his, not mine. During his drawn out awkward speech, I would glare, guilt, secretly gloat, and then eventually concede.It was never really about me anyway.

As years passed, the fights lessened into pointless debates, we both matured and actually grew to hold a mutual respect for each other. Respect turned to admiration, admiration turned into love. Stability. Finally.
Things change.

He is currently absent, both physically and emotionally. For the first time in my life, I have not received the textbook apology that I have grown to wait for. None of us have. And I don't plan on waiting forever.

Abandoned, unworthy, betrayed, forgotten, stupid, and really pissed. I feel all of these things, not just for myself, but for every single one of the precious people who trusted him. He has knocked us all down, like dominoes, with one swift selfish movement.






Sunday, July 14, 2013

Bring

Xanax.

Please share.



Thanks,


Overwhelmed.