Wearing my new bra, lacey underwear and maybe a skirt with work clothes because I fucking can
never throw me anything unless you’re ok with it dropping
How to deal with a broken heart…
By making some body modifications.
Adults complaining about the younger generation are really just saying their generation did a shitty job raising their kids.
Men who can’t cook, clean, or even do their own laundry are not “cute” and “in need of a woman to care for them”. They are spoiled brats so dependent on gender roles that they never bothered to learn the minimal skills to take care of themselves.
Ask him why he can’t commit.
Ask him how he can say he loves you but not check on you everyday.
Why he can call you in the middle of the night but not first thing in the morning.
Why he can’t say your name without splintering his tongue.
Ask him where he goes after he leaves you.
Who he’s with when he says he’s at home.
Tell him you don’t trust him.
Tell him that he makes you crazy,
that his half assd attempts at security drive you mad.
Tell him that you don’t like the way that loving him makes you feel, that you wake up every morning aching.
Tell him, you hurt more, you sleep less and it always feels like you are too weighty for him.
Ask him why he can’t commit,
why he leaves and returns just when you think you can live without him.
Ask him why he can’t stay,
Why he’s committed to leaving but not committed to you.
Ask him why you never feel like you can ask him these things?
Why he gets to live weightless,
while you live shoulder deep inside him.
I don’t want to be a bandaid, simply a cover up to make you feel better. I don’t want to be a rebound, just a temporary fling. I don’t want to fall for you more and more each time I see you, for you not to catch me. I don’t want to be needy, clingy or desperate for your attention. I don’t want to be in a constant state of anxiety, to the point I can feel knots forming in my muscles. I don’t want to stay up every night wishing you were with me in my giant and lonely bed. I don’t want to be sad and lonely to the point that my bones ache. I don’t want to be a fucking booty call.
I want to be your idea of forever. I want to be the one that has magical powers of making everything feel okay when your world threatens to fall apart. I want you to fall with me. I want to be so important to you, that I couldn’t possibly have a reason to worry about us or how you feel about me. I want to get a big hug reassuring me that I really don’t need to worry nearly as much as I do. I want this to be our bed. I want to feel so loved that I can’t stop smiling. I want to do things together like go on dates or watch Netflix together.