Despitation

"See, the thing is, there's just so many problems. He doesn't know what he wants and he just keeps yanking me back and forth. He's moody, and he's grumpy and he's bitchy, and he tells me he has 'strong feelings' for me, but then when I start to feel the same he doesn't anymore. And he tells me that he's not my friend and that it's just sex, but when I start to treat it that way, he 'calls me out' because 'that's what he does with his friends,' and gets upset that I don't come to his house early enough to 'actually hang out.' He thinks he's so adult-like but can't handle things not always going exactly his way, and he thinks he's a great communicator but he's worse at explaining himself and how he feels than just about anyone I've ever met. He either doesn't know how he feels, or he can't admit it to himself, and I hate it. I am so sick of it all."

"Then... why do you keep coming back?"

"I... I guess it's because... in spite of all that, when I'm with him... I'm happy."

The Rock and the River

They tell you: Do not be hard. Do not be immovable, like the rock that sits in the river, cutting the current. Be the water. Flow around obstacles. Be motion. Be change.

But what they don't know is that the river loves the rock.

Because the rock makes the river dance.

Don't love me

Okay. Just don't have feelings for me. Because I'm not going to allow myself to have feelings for you, anymore. If you don't want to get hurt, don't love me.

I had no idea

I didn't think I could possibly dislike you any more than I did. I was wrong.
I didn't think you could say anything more to hurt me. I was wrong.
It's just really hard to accept that you actually are a piece of shit.
I keep thinking maybe there's a reason, some explanation. There's not
This is who you are. I need to just stop answering.
I need to stop worrying about you.
I wish I could say I hate you but I obviously don't or I wouldn't worry.
Fuck. Just leave me alone.

Ready to not give a shit

I miss you, you royal fucking asshat.

Fuck You.

Come on, man. Get your shit together. You said the most awful things to me. Truly fucking awful. You told me I was garbage. After that I ended up crashing with people you don't like, and I could have been cuddling with someone and instead I sat on the floor all night instead of a comfortable bed because at the time I'd rather have been on the floor than be next to anybody but you. And the next morning you threw your fit and said to come over if I wanted any sort of closure, and you just jumped down my fucking throat about sleeping over there, and I told you all of that. That I'd sat on the damn floor, up all night, because I didn't want to be next to anyone but you. And you said to me "makes sense because trash belongs on the floor." And that was just the tip of the iceberg of the things you said to me. Noone has ever talked to me like that.

You say all that shit, you do all that shit, you still have the nerve to think I'm going to want to sleep with you after that, which just completely blows my mind, as if I'd ever allow someone who had spoken to me that way to even breathe in the same vicinity as me ever again. You say something like that to me, we are done. We are nothing. It is OVER.

And then you admit over Facebook that you shouldn't have called me garbage but that I wouldn't go away and you just wanted me to leave and leave you alone and go away and that I wouldn't just leave, and you'd tried to get me to leave and I wouldn't and that was why you were so mean, to get me to just go away. Because if I didn't want to have sex with you, that's "all you had left with me" and if I wouldn't fuck you "there was no reason for us to keep talking"

And then later I tell you to leave my stuff on the porch so I can go get it, and you fucking text me while I'm in the driveway "come watch dexter"?!!! What the fuck is wrong with you! What is your fucking problem? So I just texted you nothing but "go fuck yourself" and that is the last thing I said to you. You are so fucking insane. You are literally crazy as fuck.

And then you just texted me back a fucking frowny face. Really? A frowny face? What are you 5? What is your fucking deal?

And then! 4 fucking days later you text me "what are you doing" and you fucking stalk my okcupid profile and write me "hi" on okcupid. What is wrong with you! You literally spent days telling me I was trash who belonged on the floor and I was garbage and I was a worthless human being and then you went from that to saying you wanted to fuck me still but that if I wouldn't fuck you you were just gonna fuck someone else and 'wouldn't that bother me?' . I mean you literally did everything you could to get me to go away. And now that I go away you're fucking texting me and writing me messages online and stalking my okcupid. Yes I know you are stalking my okcupid. I can see who visits the profile and when. You literally are on there every hour and a half all night long except for from about 5 am until 8am which means you're not sleeping. I don't know what your fucking problem is. You fucking ripped me apart, you ripped me to fucking pieces, all in the name of wanting me to go away according to you, and as soon as I go you start fucking online stalking me and writing me all these messages and being a weird pathetic fuck. What the hell is wrong with you.

This is what happens every damn time. You get bored of me, you blame me for every damn thing you don't like about your life, and you push me away, and then you finally get me to leave. Tell me all you want is for me to fuck off and go away for good. And then as soon as I do, you realize oh hey, molly's gone but my life still sucks, maybe all the shitty things in my life weren't happening BECAUSE OF MOLLY, oh shit maybe she actually was one of the only fucking things that were making me HAPPY and now she's GONE oh shit I had better go be pathetic and try to get her back! And me like a fucking idiot kept coming back. And then you'd go right back to getting bored with me and blaming me for everything. Well guess what! I'm not the problem with your life! I'm not the reason you're bored or unhappy or depressed. YOU are the reason. And I'm not your fucking little emotional toy to keep yanking around back and forth. You can go fuck yourself, play your stupid head games somewhere else, play them by yourself, find a new fucking guinea pig, whatever it is I don't care. Just leave me the fuck out of it. You can't go and call someone who has literally spent 10 months doing everything they possibly can to show you they care about you and are thinking of you and want to be good to you, call that person trash for no good fucking reason, break their heart, drive them out of their life, tell them you did it because you just wanted them to go away forever and they wouldn't do it otherwise, and then as soon as they're gone start obsessing over them and expect them to have the slightest interest in writing you back. I would rather write back a cockroach. I would literally rather shove a cockroach up my vagina than have sex with you. Than be touched by you. Than have you even look at me. Go away forever you slimy piece of shit and I hope you rot.

blues

I keep thinking about your eyes. I remember them so clearly its like im right in front of you when I close my eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes. Eyes reflect whats inside. They reflect the soul. The feeling in your eyes is hesitant and shy . It tries to hide. But it is so beautiful.