over and over.
"I am drunk now, disregard this message. now. really, stop reading it now. I am listening to the song 'the world spins madly on' by the weepies. Do you remember listening to this in my car, as my head and heart spun from being near you and this sick feeling invaded my body? I am tired of people, of pretending, all of it. It's never ending. "it's easier for you". The line "I'll find another lady and you'll wreck another man" always either makes me grimace with anger or sob from the reality of the situation. I feel I am incapable of letting anyone else enter my body except for you. It's the same principle I apply to your silent room. It is sacred because your emptiness invaded it. I don't feel like I'll ever reclaim the person I was before you suffocated my senses and my rationality with your love. Remember the way it was? Remember the way we clung to the other with a ferocity that frightened and intrigued us both? I seek out these sweet, indecisive, innocent boys because they are nothing like you. They are stupid and all too susceptible to my false display of charm. They are empty in an completely different way. You are empty in the way I am. Filled with emotions and anger so incomprehensible that you become nothing in the face of such intensity. I retreat into sweetness and forgiveness, you hide behind indifference and cruelty. There will never be another you, this should be evident to me, but I cannot accept that I'll never be able to feel those things again. Matt is insanely jealous of you, I believe every man I meet is; because I speak about you incessantly, I relate poorly the feelings I had in your arms, and still it is enough to intimidate them, to make them feel inadequate with their lack of humanness. I imagine my pillow smells like you(cheap booze and cheap cigarettes and the detergent your mother buys from kroger) and I bury my head in your scent, inhaling everything that escaped my equally obsessive and careless grip. I return home every night from these pleasing encounters with boys who have not enough knowledge to hide their infatuation with me, and I slip your bloody t-shirt over my soft, naked body and situate myself awkwardly in front of this blank screen that I hope will make me feel less alone, listening to hopelessly sad songs on repeat, weeping as your face fills my mind and hollows out my heart, I return to the safety of my solitude that I only ever allowed you to invade. I won't admit it ever, but I have this insane need to be a part of you, to have you inside of me, filling all of the empty spaces that haunt my being, causing tears to from in the corners of my angry eyes, making it hard to breathe, to feel anything but your touch. You calmed my nervousness, made my heartbeat slower, my bones more solid and sturdy, my skin a quivering mess of premature love and sentiments that escape my understanding. I need this to go away. I need to forget that I ever felt anything for you. I need these boy's touches to mean something, to erase you."