toloseoneselfterrifically

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

I love you, baby.

You weren’t a lesson for me. You weren’t an indicator that at least now I know I can get pregnant. You were my baby. From the second the doctor told me you existed I felt like your mom. You were everything I ever wanted. And just like that, you were gone. The hole inside of me is indescribable. In your place, is an untold story.

I will carry you with me, forever. I know you barely even had a heartbeat, but you changed me. I wanted you. I still do. I don’t know how I am supposed to let go.

I don’t want to stop bleeding because I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want to disconnect from you. As long as I’m bleeding you may still be part of me. I don’t have to say goodbye.

I love you so much, baby. I always will. I’m sorry I didn’t make a good home for you. I will never forget you.

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

— E.E. Cummings

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @toloseoneselfterrifically on Feb 2, 2020 at 6:12pm PST

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @toloseoneselfterrifically on Feb 3, 2020 at 9:06am PST

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @toloseoneselfterrifically on Feb 5, 2020 at 3:01pm PST

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

I know I’m not supposed to say it. I shouldn’t wish it. It’s supposed to be quelled by now but it’s not and I’m not sure it ever will be. Sometimes I long for the days in my apartment, fresh off the plane from Seattle, angry and broken as fuck, getting drunk as hell and blasting the music in my apartment, slamming coke and getting brilliantly furious at the world. Dancing in nothing but a T-shirt with a bottle of wine in my hand, writing till my fingers bled, sticking my angry broken shaking middle finger to the world and feeling free. 

There is an aspect to being wildly intoxicated and losing myself in a song and the ringing in my ears that I will forever be mourning. I can’t access that level of intensity sober. It’s not a horrible thing. I just wish I could do it again sometime. Once a week. Shut myself in, cannonball into a bottle, and let myself heal in the only way I know how. 

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

All I want is to fall into you and pretend that I’m ready

All I want is to fall back with you and pretend it would work

All I want is to feel home In a person again.

I feel so unteathered and so, so incredibly desperate for a mans strong hands to hold me together but the old ones choked me and the new ones don’t know what to do and my head keeps screaming at me that to want that means I’m broken but I don’t seem capable of reaching a point where I don’t need that so I just lay here feeling inadequate to keep this new ones attention while all I really want is to be sitting in that fucking library teaching you math and my heart aches so fucking hard. What’s the point of Getting Better if it hurts and I’m crazier than before and I still love you? How is it fair for me to move on when I always will?

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

Srsly, after reading some of your blogs, fuck you. How dare you write so beautifully about so many things?! Srsly, fuck you but please keep writing.

Thank you thank you thank you ❤️ I will!!

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to only have the memories of us to hold close. Memories don’t make you come in the middle of the night. Memories don’t answer the phone when you feel like your whole world is crumbling.

Last week I was so into the idea of moving forward. Tonight I can still smell you on my hands and I still can see the sun flicker off the blue of your eyes and I can hear the groan in your voice as I hold your gaze too long and all I want to do is let the world fall away as I lay anywhere at all with you.

Saying goodbye, REALLY saying goodbye, is something I’ve never been able to do. I will love you as long as I live, I will want you as long as I know you are one class down, I will think of you while I make myself come, I will ache for you harder than I thought it was possible to.

I have no idea how I’m supposed to navigate this. How am I supposed to get out of bed tomorrow.

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

Rosemarie.

The lady I’m checking out at the front desk has the same name as me

How egotistical that it makes me like her more.

Each face that walks through the ringing bell door gets the same glazed over, irritated expression from me

But not her, queen of mirrors, she reminds me of Me, so she receives the gift of my attention.

She looks worn, she lives in a “lot”, she is straggly hair and missing teeth.

But she tells me a story of her grandmother as if she is still six years old and a smile animates her leather wrinkles into something beautiful.

I think of Amelia , of her grandmother, of offspring of offspring being raised by parents once removed, and I wonder if she will tell stories of her grandmother this way.

I pray that she does not end up leathery and dirty, insurance-less like this woman did.

I curse myself for counting an old woman’s worth by her teeth.

I pray that Amelia finds another Rosemarie who she will speak of when she is old and smile.

The ringing bell demands my attention again.

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

“Don’t look away. Look straight at everything. Look it all in the eye, good and bad.”

— Henry Miller (via goodreadss)

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

“To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

— Unknown (via syntacked)

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

“Loving you less might have been the sweetest gift I could have given my own life.”

— Andrea Gibson, "Photoshopping My Sister’s Mugshot"

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

Another start to another month that I begin without you. I feel empty, sometimes I wonder if I even exist at all. I try to make my body as small as I feel but it is stubborn and I am weak. My fingers reach for the comfort of a call, a text, a fuck, one single fucking word from you, but my heart knows that it will regret if I hit send.

I never knew what to do with you. I never know what to do with myself either, to be fair. I flip flop between you’re my soulmate and you’re my downfall so many times a minute that the room is always spinning.

Will I ever find my footing?

I am perpetually indecisive. Constantly terrified of the weight of commitment but incapable of controlling my desire. I drool, I feast, and I recoil. In every aspect of my life.

Everything I want is bad for me. I am so tired of hurting. So instead, I want. Sometimes I give in and I receive, but I get it back out again as quickly as I shoved it in.

I am starting to learn how to sit with the want without giving in. You and food will forever be on my lips. Maybe one day I’ll shrink and disappear.

[toloseoneselfterrifically]

[toloseoneselfterrifically]