everything in excess can be bad, except love and food
hell yeah i’m a catholic i’ve been addicted to cats my whole life
what if garbage was spelled like garbij
I’m done with that.
I’m done with running, with hiding, with circling around myself, both prey and predator. Sizing myself up. Tearing myself apart. Fighting myself off. I’m done. I lose the fight. You fucking win. I give up. I want something real. I’m tired of being tough. I want to be vulnerable. And open. You made me see that. That letter to you might as well have been a letter to me. You taught me it was okay to open up, that people who care about you will listen and care. You made me want to be with someone, to let someone love me and love them back. You made me want to trust someone, and hug them and kiss them and sit in pajamas with them all day and tackle them in the airport and kiss them on the lips in front of everyone. You made me believe that I could be happy like that, that I could, for once, let my guard down and fall for someone, knowing that they’d catch me. You made me believe I was capable of love. Until you didn’t. You made me feel like a second choice. You made me feel like a backup plan. You made it clear it wasn’t a competition because you didn’t even want to win. I lost my heart to you and you didn’t want the prize. I’m done playing this game, I’ve lost in so many ways that now I am lost. I’m sorry I wasn’t a more worthy adversary.