Over the past year, I have lost my voice. I stopped writing, stopped creating, and started sleeping a lot.
Sometimes the art of slow living is really singing that song on the radio you secretly love but tell everyone you hate. Or admiring the way his arms fit around you in the early morning hours way before your alarm is set to go off.
The thoughts were endless, and they were gnawing at my core, breaking me apart and spreading my insides across the floor for me to just stare at, void of feeling.
I need to remember everything I have overcome. I need to remind myself that I am a strong person capable of beautiful things.
I am going to stop pointing out all my flaws with a negative mindset. Instead, I am going to take something I seemingly don’t like about myself and make it into something I admire.
You don’t know what you want, and you claim it’s due to this dire need to make everyone else happy. To make sure everyone else is okay and content. But it’s not that at all, because in the middle of the night when she sleeps next to you and you’re texting me…you’re only thinking of yourself.
I deserve the type of love, and the type of relationship that feeds my soul, not drains it.
The days seemed to pass without purpose, I didn’t exist in his world. I was a warm body to sleep next to and occasionally have sex with. If you could call it that. This is not the life I wanted.
You’re right, love isn’t like the movies. Love doesn’t magically happen and cure everything.