It's the confession, not the priest...

Anyone will do hm? I guess that wasn’t our place. None of it was special…

You’ve been living a second life void of me for so long, that now it’s just second nature.

Being closed off is the safest defense. Letting one person in shatters that defense permanently it seems. I just want my walls back.

Why does it have to hurt SO much?

I HATE change.

I thought two years ago that I had made the smartest, most calculated, fail-safe decision.

But I was wrong.

I hate uncertainty.

You thought you wouldn’t, but you love it. Every day points more to the idea that this was the right way to go for us both.

True story. Perfect lyrics.

Heartbreakingly accurate

You’re the best at showing how little you care.

Even when I say I won’t believe your lies. I still manage to get fooled by them.

I don’t know how much longer I can pretend that this is what I want, or that this is working.

Everytime it comes down to me or them, and you choose them, you lose a piece of me.

She’s so gross.

FYI the one you can’t go a day without seeing is the one you’re actually in love with. It’s sad that you can’t even stick to your own bullshit.

Funny how your stories made me (mistakenly) feel like I had outgrown all of them. But now I realize it’s just you that I have outgrown. I am so over this and ready to move forward.

P.S. I HATE you for permanently and irreversibly ruining one part of my life. I can never and will never forgive you for that. Ever.

The Obligation to be Happy

BY LINDA PASTAN

It is more onerous
than the rites of beauty
or housework, harder than love.
But you expect it of me casually,
the way you expect the sun
to come up, not in spite of rain
or clouds but because of them.

And so I smile, as if my own fidelity
to sadness were a hidden vice—
that downward tug on my mouth,
my old suspicion that health
and love are brief irrelevancies,
no more than laughter in the warm dark
strangled at dawn.

Happiness. I try to hoist it
on my narrow shoulders again—
a knapsack heavy with gold coins.
I stumble around the house,   
bump into things.
Only Midas himself
would understand.

Your complete and utter lack of consideration is so freaking attractive.