I don’t need you to text me from the second your alarm chimes in the morning until your head sinks into your pillow at night. I don’t need never-ending affection. But I do need affection. I need you to set time aside to visit me and plan out dates you think I’d like. I need you to ask me about my day and tell me all about yours. I need you to prove that you give a damn about me.
Don’t settle for existing — for being a body with handfuls of money, but an empty heart. Actually live. Give yourself a reason to get up tomorrow, so you don’t end up stuffing yourself with drugs or alcohol or toxic boys. So you don’t end up creating an existence you’re ashamed of instead of a life you’re proud of.
Let him catch you masturbating.
I stumbled to the mirror attached to the back of my door. Saw something dripping out of my left ear. Blood? No. No, it wasn’t liquid. It was solid. Like a long, thick worm.
Pisces are social, which means he probably has a lot of female friends. That’s why you have to make it clear that you’re not just being friendly — you’re being flirty. If you don’t make your feelings abundantly obvious, then he’s never going to get the hint.
If you have to make a phone call or approach a store counter, you’ll rehearse what you have to say before you actually say it. You’ll repeat the words over and over in your head until you have them memorized. Until you’re ready to take on your role as ‘functional human being.’
You deserve more than an almost. You deserve a real relationship with a real man that puts in real effort. You deserve someone that introduces you to his parents and texts you every morning and invites you over during the holidays. You deserve true love instead of an imposter love.
During dates. He shouldn’t be staring at his lap, checking his phone, while you’re out having dinner. He should be present. He should be observant. He should be paying attention to you.
At what age did you learn the most about yourself?
I don’t want to keep performing this bullshit balance act, trying to walk the fine line between looking adorable and desperate. I’m tired of dressing to make you look at me, rewriting texts to make you laugh at me, holding myself back to make you think highly of me.