I Wish I Would Have Known

I wish I would have known you were a coward, who would abandon me when I needed someone the most. 

I wish I would have known that one night I opened myself to you, the one night we were intimate would spiral me into the dark hole I am in today. 

I wish we would have been more careful, and not have acted on pure lust alone. Then maybe I wouldn’t  be in this mess. 

You were sweet and kind, a little too kind and maybe that was a warning. 

I genuinely had feelings for you, I liked your sense of humor and your devotion to your family and friends, but as time went on you grew distant. 

And three positive pregnancy test later, I had wished I would had never met you. But you stayed and you worried, which made me like you even more. 

I even understood that you wanted to take things slow, I understood how your last relationship hurt you. I understood. 

But then you turned. 


I received a wrong number text, well, let’s get this straight I received a wrong number Dick pic. 

Considering I was hanging out with my girls they were entertained. I even told you about it, we were both entertained. But little did I know this person was your friend, who kept pushing and pushing. 

The same friend you gave my number too and told to text. 


This hurt more than I wanted it too. There was a pang of pain as I thought about the reasons why you would say that. 

Was I someone who you could just pass around?, someone you didn’t care about? 

You told me, he lied, but did he really? 

I forgave you, I let it go, stupid me. 

I had a miscarriage, I was scared. I was sad and I wished you could be there for me, be there with me. But you went MIA, but still filled me with kind words, but it was only through texts. 

You were the only person I could talk to, and I tried, oh did I try. 

I tried as I cried myself to sleep, feeling an emptiness In me. I tried, pretended I was okay, with the sole fact I didn’t want you to worry or feel some blame.  

I tried to contact you, tried to text, yet nothing. You told me you would be there for me, and though there’s was small part of me that told me not to depend on that, I couldn’t stop. 

It was only 3 days after my miscarriage, three days of barely anything. And you ended things quicker than they started.


It hurt more than I wanted it to hurt. 

Yet I still couldn’t blame you, now 6 days after my miscarriage, now as I lay here with a fever, chills, pain and bleeding. 

Now at the hospital scared out of my mind, that there’s complications. I still can’t blame you. 

Digging Myself Deeper

“…I’m suffocating on the words I want to say, but can’t” 


Do you ever feel like your in a hole, you can’t dig yourself out of? No matter how hard you try, you just can’t find a clearing. 

That’s how I currently feel, I’ve dug this hole and I can’t find my way out of it. 

My chest feels so heavy, as if it was filled with dirt I’ve been slowly breathing in. 

Hard to imagine I was once so happy and care free, but now…now I’m just this poor excuse of a person. 

I’m hoping that I’ll feel numb and this sadness will just go away, but I guess it just doesn’t work that way. 

I wished it worked that way. 

You see depression is something I’ve been fighting for years, an ongoing battle. 

One that has had many casualties and too many wounded. 

I almost lost the war once, a very dark day and part of my life that I have yet to conquer. 

And I think about it every day. The consequences it would had, the pain I would have caused. 

But when your suffocating from your own pain and sadness, those thoughts, that reasoning leaves your mind. 

And the only ones that are  left are those of escaping. Of ending the pain, the suffering and that feeling of emptiness. 

Regrets

It’s 1 a.m. and here I am on my bedroom floor, tears streaming down my face.

I would like to say this is not an ordinary occasion, but it is.

At this point in my life, I have nothing but regrets.

I regret staying in this town, instead of leaving after I graduated.

I regret the major I studied and the career path I’ve taken.

And right now I regret the fact that I just came back from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable’s apartment.

I regret  that my heart skipped a beat the moment I saw him, or the fact that the past week I hadn’t seen him, crushed me dearly.

But my biggest action I regret is the fact, that I’ve just spent the past 40 minutes on my knees, making him a king.

To be treated like nothing.

I feel insignificant, worthless, but it’s my own damn fault. I knew what I was getting into, I knew there where no mutual feelings. But a girl can dream right. Even though that dream might come crashing down. This can’t be the person I am, anymore.

But even though I try to deny, I love the damn fool.

Losing My Patience 

That’s it I’m done, how do I end up choosing these men?

Okay, not men, more like fuck boys.

Definition: A manipulating dick who does whatever it takes to benefit himself, regardless of who he screws over. They will screw over anyone and everyone as long they get what they want.

Why do I attract these guys? Real question is, why am I attracted to them?

Are there no decent men around? Or are they all taken? (All valid questions)

Mr. Emotionally Unavailable is the biggest definition of that, I know it, he knows it, everyone knows it. And yet it still doesn’t stop me from texting him, but sadly this post isn’t even about him. 

Let’s call him “Scooby” just like the very end of the show he was unmasked and turns out he’s a fuck boy in disguised.

Scooby, was sweet and funny, and don’t quote me, but close to being adorable. He sorta made me forget about, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable. Which is tough, since the  mere mention of his name, makes my heart skip a beat.

He made me laugh, we talked for hours, sorta made me feel like someone genuinely cared about me, but of course that was short lived.

Now, I’m not saying I had strong feelings for him, but I was giving him a chance.

And  there he had to go and ruin it.

Getting a text 2 hours after we had plans with a lame excuse is unacceptable, but okay, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Obviously I still thought he was a decent guy.

But now, we make plans  to face time ( in 5 minutes) : meaning some pretty damn hot phone sex to only be ignored for hours to find you being active on OKCupid.

I am literally suffering from whiplash. WTF?!

Am I delusional here, what did I miss that made you do a 160 in like a minute.

Most of my friends tell me, it takes time and you have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince and all that crap.

But I am a closed off person, who has emotional and physical scars and the fact that I let two guys, let alone one in is a lot for me.

And now I’m thinking that’s it too much, so this girl has decided, I’m better off just closing myself off from people for a while, enjoy my presence before needing someone else’s.

Mr. Emotionally Unavailable 

Sometimes I pretend that I stand a chance, but in reality I don’t.  

Its been week, a whole week, since I last saw you. A week since I did the pathetic walk of shame at 2:30 a.m. to only wake up at 5 to go to work. 

Five days since I realized I was completely screwed, and head over heels for you. Even thought let’s face it, I knew before, I was just purely in denial. 

I’m a complete and utter idiot. 

Not because I fell for Mr. Emotionally Unavailable, but because it’s 1:00 a.m. and I’m scrambling to retouch my makeup, quickly straighten my messy slightly frizzy hair and I’m shimmying into my brand new black and red negligee.

 Don’t get me started on how hard it was hooking my garter belt to my black lace knee high tights. 

Yes, I’m going all out. Why? You may ask.

Well I asked myself the same thing. 

And the only answer I came up with was: it’s Scotty. 

What makes him so perfect in my eyes? Good question. 

He’s a complete grump, to the fact that his co-workers call him a Grinch during the Christmas season. 

Which for some reason I find that attractive.

He’s a complete book nerd, I mean he’s constantly listening to books on tape tonight, reading, discussing, you know the whole shebang. 

Hermit Crab: not a big fan of adventure, going out, having fun. Pretty much a bore, but I find that so perfect.

I certainly know how to pick them, right?

I miss the banter.

I miss the honesty. 

I miss the beginning. 

Scotty: Blowing Off Some Steam

As I lay here in bed, fighting back tears, the only  thing I can think about us,why?

I put in effort, do you know how long it takes to get ready to send  the perfect sexy nude? 

It takes effort, I do my makeup and my hair, and struggle a good 20 minutes trying to find the perfect angle and picture to send you. And with all this effort, I get a lame, pathetic text an hour later. 

An Hour! 


Look, I don’t care if you have a date or whatever,  just be decent enough to take a minute of your time and blow me off nicely.

I’m not looking for a mile long explanation, honesty would be nice. 

Just makes me feel even more pathetic over the fact that I’m still pining for you. 

Could I have made plans with a different person, yes. But the thought of it being with you, gives me an overwhelming warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. That I hate.

It drags me into the abyss of questions, why aren’t I good enough? Am I not pretty enough?Am I boring?Dull? Annoying? Why are we having a 160 personality change?

What happened to the sweet guy, that actually asked how my day was going, and how I was? And why has he been replaced by the guy that makes me feel insignificant, and who only bothers to talk when he knows it’ll end in a blow job. 

And why and I still pining  for him? 

This is a question I ask myself a lot. 

And the only answer I have, is that I ultimately fell for him. Something I never thought I would do. 

And it breaks my heart knowing those feeling will never be reciprocated. 

“I Agree. And I’m Sorry. And Thank You.”

One freaking text, ” I Agree. And I’m Sorry. And Thank You.”

One short text, 8 words, 27 letters and a shit load of periods. I mean a shitload, like what was he thinking. This one phrase is the reason that my heart is currently shattered into a million pieces and has made me feel slightly worthless, but before I get into that story, I should probably start with the beginning.

img_1165

The first and the worst: Jeremy. (D.I.D)

Let’s travel back nine years, back to a bright eyed innocent girl; who knew nothing of love, relationships and heartbreak.

Let’s talk about Jeremy. (Devil in Disguise or D.I.D)

D.I.D was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything. He was the first person to challenge me, to inspire me and to hurt me; mentally, emotionally and physically.

D.I.D  is the reason, I’m pretty fucked up.