space isn't just a place for stars.
I've gotten my heart thrown around quite a bit in the last few years, and after the last fallout I decided to harden my heart and play the game right back at the male species. Instant gratification I guess. The past few months have been a blur, partially because I have been intoxicated 72 % of the time, and partially because of this mental morphine bullshit I've been feeding myself, you'll feel better when you don't feel, right? Waking up in random places to boys’ faces you've never seen in your life, trying to find your shoes and tiptoe out without waking the stranger with a questionable look. Recollecting bits and pieces of the night before, picking them off the ground like shattered pieces of glass, if you try and put them together you’ll just cut up your hands so don’t even bother. This isn’t me.
But waking up to you was different. No, not him, keep him out of this game please. Sometimes I think of what to say but the words come out gray and cold. If I could put in words how I feel, they would just make me vulnerable again. But if I don’t say anything at all, I’m afraid I’m hurting you.
What I’ve realized is that self-inflicted numbness is worse than self-inflicted pain. I hate being such an intricate person, the geography of my brain is so complex that even I couldn’t start to try and figure it out. But I know this isn’t the way. Back to square one.
P.S. I’m sorry.
But waking up to you was different. No, not him, keep him out of this game please. Sometimes I think of what to say but the words come out gray and cold. If I could put in words how I feel, they would just make me vulnerable again. But if I don’t say anything at all, I’m afraid I’m hurting you.
What I’ve realized is that self-inflicted numbness is worse than self-inflicted pain. I hate being such an intricate person, the geography of my brain is so complex that even I couldn’t start to try and figure it out. But I know this isn’t the way. Back to square one.
P.S. I’m sorry.