An Ace indivual who has no FUCKING idea what they are doing just like the rest of us.
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Bittersweet
For a brief moment
I started to believe
On all the shooting stars
We never see
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I’m just a needy, insecure mess. You deserve better than me.
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Dear Aunt Susie,
You would be appalled and furious. You’d have something poignant to say. I know you being alive wouldn’t make Trump not president again. But at the very least you’d be here to commiserate with all of us who are hurting. You fought so hard for what you believed in. You stood up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. I’ll never be as strong as you were. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t. And I’m seriously doubting how standing up does any good at all. I allowed myself to cry for missing you. I don’t miss you everyday, but still I miss you. Especially on days like these. It’s not just that you’re gone. It’s that I’ve lost faith. In God, in humanity, in everything. I’m angry at those who had hope. I want to scream, “I told you so!” But what would that do? Nothing? Harm? Something in between? I just don’t understand. I just don’t understand how anybody could vote for this lunatic. Or how this lunatic thinks he’s right. I did my duty. I voted. I told others to vote. And it didn’t. Fucking. Matter! Not one mother fucking bit. Here I am. Stuck in a place a hate with a president I hate more. In a world full of people who hate what they don’t understand. How’d it come to this? Or were we always on the brink of being right here?
Love,
Kelsey
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I miss when you loved me this much. I miss when I was oblivious to what was actually going on. The 12.5 year old girl in this photo doesn’t know you’re about to leave. Doesn’t know you’re about to not talk to her for well over a decade. This girl doesn’t know that you break her daddy’s heart. Things were rocky then. But I don’t remember that. Maybe that’s my mind protecting me. Or my dad’s choice at the time. Or most likely of all, a mix of both. All that aside, I still wish I could go back in time and tell that little girl to hug you tighter, to hold on longer, and take a picture in her mind. So she had something more clear to hold on to. Because for about 15 years all she had was silence. For about a decade she believed she did something wrong. That she was the reason you went away. Regardless of what her daddy did you chose to leave. I wish she knew that too. Most of all I wish she knew that blood makes you related, but love and support makes you family. You’ve haven’t been my family in a long, long time.
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I’m pretty sure I know how to get your attention and I could do it. But do I really want to? Is that really how I want to start this off? If there is anything to start I mean. I know the answer is no, but I’m so desperate for a response right now I feel my willingness to do anything creep back up and my will power get pushed back down. I don’t want to fuck. I’ve made that pretty clear. But fuck I’m crushing on you. What to do with those feelings? How to act? Which thought to follow? I don’t know. My heart says one thing my mind says another and that’s gotten me all tangled up. I should just be myself because if you don’t like me for me then you’re not the one. But couldn’t you be? What am I supposed to do with this kindness you give me? How am I supposed to feel when you don’t text me back? I know I’m supposed to be patient and all, but patience was never a virtue I was all too good at upholding. 20 year old me wants to call you. She wants to take extreme measures. But will that give me the outcome 30 year old me wants? No, no it won’t. But doing nothing at all isn’t true to myself. There’s a balance here and I feel like it’s a very very fine line. I’m worried if I cross it it will be game over. And the last thing I want is game over. I need to give you the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know how. I need to slow down. I don’t know how. Kindness is truly the bare fucking minimum. And yet since I’ve been fucking around with selfish assholes for so long your kindness feels like a winning lottery ticket. But is it kind to leave me hanging? Is it kind for me to keep texting you without waiting for your response? How long can I wait? The truth is not very fucking long. I’m doing my best. But I’m worried my best isn’t good enough. I’m worried that I’m not good enough. I’m worried I’ll never be good enough. I’m worried that… no one will ever want me as much as I want them, no one will ever care as much as I care, and no one will ever love me as much as love them. I know I’m crazy. I know I’m a lot. I know I’m an impatient girl with low self esteem to match. But if you can get over all of that I promise I’m worth it. I promise you’ll never find someone else so loving and kind. You’ll never find someone else funnier and smarter. You’ll never find someone more loyal or more honest than little ol’ unworthy me. That’s what I have to offer. Take it or leave it, but please for the love of god tell me which you choose.
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I’m sorry, I’m just too good at doing this. This overthinking shit is consuming me. Text me back. Text me back so I know it’s all just in my head.
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The path isn’t a straight line; it’s a spiral. You continually come back to things you thought you understood and see deeper truths.
Barry H. Gillespie
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The best revenge is none. Move on and heal yourself so you don’t become like the people who traumatized you.
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Imitate
You run
And I follow
But the chasing I do
Has left me hollow
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