Straight vodka burns less than telling you what you did was okay.
I thought about how love was always the thing that did that - smashed into you, left you raw. The deeper you loved, the deeper it hurt.
stop missing a boy who doesn’t care about you.
I remember everything so vividly—
The way you made me laugh when
I only wanted to cry, the way you knew
How to hug me and make my problems
Disappear, the way my heart skipped at
The mention of your name, the way you
Could make my day with a simple “hello.”
I even remember the deafening silence
When I told you I could love you forever,
And the day my favorite hello became
A goodbye and a dial tone.
I want to tell you that I’m better now. I can fall asleep without hearing your voice and I’ve thrown away all the words you ever wrote for me because it hurts less that way. I’ve stopped oxygenating my blood and bleeding your favorite color. Red. I’ve stopped spending Friday nights in the bed of another who doesn’t love me because I know my worth now. I’ve stopped smoking and I haven’t drank in months now and I want to tell you that it wasn’t easy to pick myself up off the floor. It took a year for me to realize that holding on to you was starting to look like the end of me. So one day, I just decided that there was no point in ruining myself that way when you’ve done enough damage. I still love you but I know deep down in my heart, that you’re not coming back and it’s time to move on with my life.
I know now that I can’t save you,
But I didn’t know that at 13 or 18 or even 20.
At 13, I didn’t know that it was possible to love someone so much that your heart could feel like it was going to beat right out of your chest so when you said you loved me, it was the first time I heard it from a boy I liked so much that it hurt so of course I said it back & even though I didn’t know what love was back then, I knew it had to feel something like that.
At 18, I didn’t know that my heart could bleed for nights at a time, but it can & there was so many nights that I thought I was going to die but you said you loved me again & I said I loved you back, I meant it.
God knows I meant it.
I was a few days from being 21 & you said you were sorry so I unlocked my door for the last time & I held your hand like I did when I was 13; I led you to the bed & I let you undress me like you did for the first time when I was 18 & sorry felt like your lips all over me & it wasn’t nearly enough but that night, it felt like it was.
I’ve been 21 for almost two months now & I know for sure that I can’t save you & your apology that night wasn’t nearly enough.
I know that you still aren’t sorry & when we had sex, it was the only time you ever gave a fuck.
But what a fuck it was.