Being alive in this world can be
awfully painful. What with all the feeling going on. All those things we assume
and expect. Right now for instance, my brain is telling me he is not texting me
back because he really was grossed out about me getting my period in the middle
of sex. Well, I already knew it was sorta there, I just didn’t think it was
there, there, you know. So I ask him how his day went, even though I don’t
really care. I think I would just be really relieved if it were all over. And
yet, I am seething inside because he hasn’t texted me back.
Please don’t hate me. Please don’t be offended by me. Please don’t reject me. Please want me. Please like me. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t actually get to know me. I don’t know how it feels anymore to have someone fit so well within me. I no longer know how to share my bed or my life. And yet I still want you to text me. I just want to know that there is someone else out there that enjoys my company as much as I do.
It’s funny, because by tomorrow I will
just laugh and shake my head over the fact that I bled all over our fucking.
I’ve bled for worse things and I am still here.
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