Show me your scars,”
“Because I wanted to see how many times you needed me, and I wasn’t there.
Date someone who would rather watch your favorite movie with you then go to a party on Friday night. Date someone who will share their food with you even though you said you didn’t want any. Date someone who will warm your hands in the winter and kiss your pink nose. Date someone who will text you they love you at 2am and at 9pm. Date someone who will let you change the station in the car when they’re driving. Date someone who can make you smile when you would rather die. Date someone who makes your insides feel like you’ve just downed a bottle of vodka. Date someone who makes you better.
You can’t spend the rest of your life being afraid of people rejecting you, and you have to start by not rejecting yourself, you don’t deserve it. From now on, people can either accept you for who you are or they can fuck off.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.
1. I don’t like folding laundry or talking about my emotions. I’m likely to leave both scattered all over.
2. I’m not much for cooking but there will always be coffee.
3. I’ll wear anything of yours with sleeves. I love when they’re long enough to wrap around my hands.
4. Sometimes the world is too harsh, too big. It’s hard to leave the house on days like those.
5. When I was sick as a kid my mom would run a bath for me and wash my hair. It was always so soothing. Maybe you could do that every once in a while.
6. I find it difficult to finish most things. My room is home to countless journals of incomplete thoughts.
7. I won’t love you any less in December. I think my heart just wasn’t meant for the cold.
8. I never truly know why I’m crying so don’t bother to ask, simply be there.
9. There’s whiskey in the medicine cabinet.
10. If things get terribly bad, please don’t give up. Get me in the car and drive to the sea. The waves beneath my toes will wake me up and I’ll be yours again.