Brain cells popping madly, I can hear them if I listen closely enough, if I tone out the british voice reading out our futures on the radio fervently. I am next to you and I feel alone. I am next to you and I feel angry. I am next to you and I want to die. The brief spell of happiness you brought me has worn thin. Obsession, obsession. I need it, I ( Read more... )

October 17 at 7:37pm

"I long for you every day, I miss you more than I could ever articulate stephen; but I know that I am perfectly designed for abandonment, for unrequited love, perhaps it's the only thing that fuels me. I think of the child I murdered every day, and though the most rational part of me knows it was the best decision, the only ( Read more... )

the drugs should make me forget, but just as a child I forget to remember that these are only temporary means of coping. Yesterday, in the car as I'm obsessing over my love of klonopin a memory quite forcefully enters my head of his strange body entering my own limp frame, my hazy mind aware of the unwelcome intrusion, but my body paralyzed by the ( Read more... )

With a carefree stride that flirted with drunkenness, he approached. No night in shining armor, by even the most gracious use of the phrase, but clearly capable of covering the position if need be - he might even don the armor, if it seemed prudent, advantageous, desired, or if it made him look better (he scoffs at the idea. He clearly looks the ( Read more... )

I cannot feel much of anything lately. Just this heavy, solid weight in my chest. The only thing you really left me with, besides the remnants of your blood on my floor, on my tiny feet as I tread lightly over the sloping hardwood floor where your bed once was. Four times this week I have driven the five traffic congested miles to your neighborhood ( Read more... )

Sweet, thick smoke and the way it causes every fear to dissipate so easily. So I smoke and I smoke and I eat, and this is what my life revolves around every time I am in Dallas, I get high and I eat and I get high and I eat and I drink and I suck a dick here and there and I eat. This is the city of longing, the city of loss, the city where I lost ( Read more... )

flea market, our bodies moving slowly through the piles of useless, cheap items, a treasure chest of trash, your hand grazes my arm lightly, our fingertips touch as you hand me certain items, with a gleeful expression and a light heart, it's so innocent, it's so comfortable. I take you back to my house, showcase each strange possession from ( Read more... )

This is what I wanted and yet it's becoming increasingly difficult to bear. The full weight of my independence as a human being, the ache of loneliness that devours me, the potential that I know exists but I fail to see clearly, the freedom, which drowns me in possibility. The most selfish part of me misses the feeling of a child growing inside of ( Read more... )

no one reads this, and they shouldn't most likely. it's become an obsessive documentation of my addiction to stephen. but here we go again.

Stephen Rowland-I fucking deleted that original message. Way to go, OKStupid. I said your sex addiction wouldn't bother me, and it does. I said I was a capable drinker, and every time I verbally or physically ( Read more... )

"I am drunk now, disregard this message. now. really, stop reading it now. I am listening to the song 'the world spins madly on' by the weepies. Do you remember listening to this in my car, as my head and heart spun from being near you and this sick feeling invaded my body? I am tired of people, of pretending, all of it. It's never ending. "it's ( Read more... )