AfterMaTh (initials) -- drafted texts i never sent

I apologized to you for jumping to conclusions and i apologized to your mother for being hysterical and i apologized for the pills. I apologized, then I walked away and when you didn't follow me, i assumed we were done. I apologized.

I don't think i have the face of your enemy. I think I have that face you're scared to think about late at night when you're half drunk having a panic attack, thinking about how things used to be, wishing things could be the way they used to be.

I lost my mind in your darkness, and i can't tell if i should see a doctor or just die.

i left my soul in the passenger seat of your mustang and i put my sadness out to dry flat on the dashboard. There was comfort in your mess. You had my hell in your pocket and I liked to think that I was your bodyguard.

Your parents and I have something in common. We both love to pretend that I do not exist when I am out in publc.

Your mother is part of the reason i tried to kill myself in November. Her words banged around in my skull like a richocheting bullet and i didn't know how to make it stop.

Do you ever lay awake late at night an wish that I was with you? Sometimes, four in the morning hits me, pulls me under like cinder blocks tied to my ankles. Anchors. You're an anchor. You kept me grounded, and when you let me go, I drifted off and I can't find my way back. Do you even want me to find my way back? I think you forgot about me. Sometimes, I lay awake late at night and wish that i was with you.

Every time i write, i imagine your face as you read it. Do you think it's about you? Is everything about you? You know, I never once thought you were more than i could handle. I was too busy thinking that I wasn't worth keeping around. I was too busy trying to find new ways to keep myself in your life. I was too busy trying to convince myself that I was enough. I am enough.

Hand me a timeline of my life and I can pinpoint every single moment I thought we'd spend together. Hand me a calendar, and I can point to dates we spent together a year ago, two years, three years, six years ago. My tomorrow doesn't have your name on it anymore.

I haven't seen you in two years. At least, not in person. Hard to believe we live in the same town.

When we were friends--good friends, who hung out all night long and laughed until the sun rose--we never exchanged phone numbers. No texts. No calls. I should've seen this coming. I should've known you'd leave. I should've stayed to myself. I shouldn't have become so attached.

I can't believe thinking about you still makes me feel. I figured I'd be too jaded, too apathetic. I still care and it makes me wish the earth would just open up beneath me, swallow me whole. The worst part is knowing that you wouldn't even notice that I'd left.

"it feels like flying, but maybe we're dying."

Being with you was like breathing deeply after having not breathed in forever. Where I'm at now is similar. Where I'm at now is like breathing deeply after having not breathed in forever, only now I"m underwater.

Knowing that you only ever let me in when it was convenient for you taught me that the only difference between loneliness and being your friend was the smell of your perfume.
  • Current Music: misguided ghosts -- paramore