self-indulge for just a second plzkthx
Boys That I Date: I am so tired of not being enough for you. I am so tired. I am tired of not being thin enough, smart enough, affectionate enough, independent enough. I am tired of you existing and being the Blown-Out Knee of My Life. DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE to come out the loser of three extremely long relationships? No, because you are on the calm end, in control, always. I hear all of you when one of you starts talking: telling me how it is, rehearsing. Do you have any questions? You're a fantastic person. You're not the same. This is as hard for you as it is for me. I'm just not into it anymore. Personal Best: I will always care about you.
This is a frustration that is remarkably not complex. This happened again and I don't understand why, and I don't want to think about your Melanie Corbetts or Chelsea Rawlings of the future. (BTW, BOYS THAT I DATE, ARE YOU SURE?) To add insult to injury, you were a good guy, just not to me. Why is that the way it goes? You all start out great, and you become bored, or at least, complacent. Every single time. How did I do this? Somehow, it feels but I know one some other level its not true, I let A Big Fish go, this last one. I truly, truly gave all of myself to you--I shared my bed every night, spilled everything about me, took pictures in Washington, have your songs and letters. I guess something wasn't convincing enough.
The most frustrating thing is it takes time to not be frustrating anymore, just like it takes time for things to die. Death is a process. I put my laundry in while I'm a girlfriend, and when I retrieve it I'm drooling all over myself with Tylenol #4s and flat root beer. Your voice is flat and unbearably kind and CFO-professional, and I find a picture and you look like you like me. Or you're standing over my bed, completely silent, and I say "boy, you just done broke my heart." Jesus, all of it happened five minutes ago.
I depended on all of you. I trusted you. I want stability, I want it to be easy, once.
This is a frustration that is remarkably not complex. This happened again and I don't understand why, and I don't want to think about your Melanie Corbetts or Chelsea Rawlings of the future. (BTW, BOYS THAT I DATE, ARE YOU SURE?) To add insult to injury, you were a good guy, just not to me. Why is that the way it goes? You all start out great, and you become bored, or at least, complacent. Every single time. How did I do this? Somehow, it feels but I know one some other level its not true, I let A Big Fish go, this last one. I truly, truly gave all of myself to you--I shared my bed every night, spilled everything about me, took pictures in Washington, have your songs and letters. I guess something wasn't convincing enough.
The most frustrating thing is it takes time to not be frustrating anymore, just like it takes time for things to die. Death is a process. I put my laundry in while I'm a girlfriend, and when I retrieve it I'm drooling all over myself with Tylenol #4s and flat root beer. Your voice is flat and unbearably kind and CFO-professional, and I find a picture and you look like you like me. Or you're standing over my bed, completely silent, and I say "boy, you just done broke my heart." Jesus, all of it happened five minutes ago.
I depended on all of you. I trusted you. I want stability, I want it to be easy, once.