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memoriesturntogold-blog · 6 years

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May 19th, 2018

I was supposed to go to Iowa this last weekend... I told everyone I had a friend who goes to college there; that they were interested in me being a guest student teacher. It was sort of true... I was going to see a friend, and I really was going to participate in this class, and I probably would have taught the students a thing or two, but the friend was someone they would never have expected.... When I lived in Arizona, my cousin Ariel and I were obsessed with physical fitness (still kinda true). She worked the over night shift at Planet Fitness and I'd always come visit her until well after midnight. There was this morning in particular that she asked me to go pick up her paycheck, and I obliged. When I entered the establishment, no one was willing to help me, so I found myself to be incredibly irritated. While I was being undoubtedly miffed, I noticed there was an exceptionally cute guy working with dermal piercings on his face. He noticed my frustration and attempted to assist, but in turn became disgruntled for me because barely anyone would help him either. I didn't want to talk to him at first because I arrived looking like an utter mess. But I eventually got Ariel's check and dipped, and I'm not quite sure how much time had passed, but she set me up on a blind date. My date ended up to be dermal piercing guy. I remember it being last minute and impulsive, because under my scrubs I was wearing a small white crop top with red flowers and ripped white jeans. I thought I looked, not necessarily trashy, but.... dingy. His first impression of me was already an eyesore, so before I arrived I asked him if what I was wearing was disreputable. I didn't send him a photo, just described what I was wearing. I found out later that the question regarding my clothes was the real first impression before I even met up with him. He liked that I cared about his opinion, and in turn I earned some slight respect. On April 22nd, 2014, I arrived at his apartment complex in Tempe, Arizona. It reminded me of a motel because everyone had to enter their home from the outside. It was beautiful though....it was completely surrounded by palm trees, and admiring the wall of a sand storm closing in was breath taking from the upper balcony. Later on, this would eventually become my new home. With memories I would never have dreamed of fathoming... I watched him walk down the stairs from below, and god this man was beautiful. He had impeccable brown hair, magnificent brown eyes, and the way he looked at me was like he was already in love. I ended up changing my shirt in the parking lot to something more suitable for a date, and while I was doing this I felt him get annoyed, and he just stormed off. He ended up being upset that someone dumped their trash in the parking lot, so he went out of his way to place them where they belonged. That's when I knew I was in love. He hadn't decided where we wanted to go for dinner, so as an Aries I took initiative and chose Denny's. What man wouldn't love late night breakfast?? We arrived and we sat on separate sides of the table so it was easier to make conversation. I remember wishing I could sit right next to him, the way he was looking at me was so distracting. The date went great, and I even paid for the both of us. He secretly didn't like this, for he thought I was trying to get rid of him. But that changed when we arrived back to his apartment and I invited myself up. He was hesitant about it, but he allowed it. You could tell he literally just moved in because the whole place was empty. His 14x10 living room only secured Christmas lights drenched upon his window, for there weren't any real lights to turn on. I thought that was odd. His hardwood floors were bare, and his kitchen was only big enough to fit ONE person at a time. I could touch the stove, sink and fridge all at the same time with no effort. This guy didn't even have a couch, and his bathroom was just as big as the kitchen, if not smaller. There was an area between his bathroom and his bedroom with a mirror the size of a huge flat screen TV, a 5ft wide counter and a sink. Why couldn't the kitchen be this big?? And again, even his room was bare. All he had was a futon and a TV from the 90s that weighed more than I did just sitting on his carpet. His friend AJ was sitting on his futon, the bed that would eventually become mine. Even with all these details, I didn't care. I actually admired him for it. This was all he had, he didn't even own a microwave. He didn't need anything, and he knew this. This was how I strived to be in my life, being as non-materialistic as possible. Being able to get up and go at a moment's notice if for some reason I had to go. At the time... I had no filter. I just said what I wanted when I wanted with no extra thought. It made me out to look careless, arrogant and sometimes annoying. Apparently this was acceptable, because when I walked into his bedroom and saw this little white jackass sitting on his bed smoking a blunt, I said, "Whaddup niggaaa!" He immediately started laughing and said, "I like this girl already!" When he left soon after, Daimen (turns out dermal piercing guy has a name) and I sat on his bed together and smoked a few bowls. There was this incredible, indescribable and intoxicating connection between us. I could feel he was the one, for he did as well, and I needed to do this right. So when sleeping over with him became an option, I went out of my way to let him know that I wasn't having sex with him.

Again.... it was the way he looked at me.... I just melted. The next day, I went to Lake Havasu for the weekend for a modeling gig. It involved me and Ariel being half naked and promoting boat insurance at this street party. I even met a professional snowboarder from Colorado who bought me a plane ticket to go see him later in the week. I even almost hitched a ride to Australia! While I was only 20, he was 25. So the whole weekend he bought me drinks while I lead him on. I was flattered that this hippie with hair longer than mine with an EIGHT pack was giving me so much attention. But Daimen was always on my mind... I came back the following Monday night, and the moment I got home I went straight to Daimen's. I even ghosted Colorado Guy and the Australian family who offered me a full time nanny position. We had the option of going to a party, and even though I wasn't much of a partier, I agreed go anyway. When we finally appeared, there was EDM music playing and the vibe had felt amazing. We went directly to the backyard where there was a fire roaring late in the night, and to the left there was a shed where people were playing beer pong. I ended up acquiring over a thousand dollars worth of drugs in my purse, holding it for one of Daimen's friends while he got fucked up, but I actually ended up selling quite a bit of MDMA. I had never really dabbled with drugs much before at this point, so I was hesitant about taking anything. I figured I’d try it just once, just to see what it was like. Which...ended up being the beginning of a year long drug fueled relationship...

I really felt I was in love with him before the drugs. I remember what that connection was like when I was sober, and I KNEW he was my soulmate. But honestly...I can’t remember a time when we weren’t fucked up together....the sex was amazing though. We established a fiery relationship right off the bat. The first night we made love, the night of the party, was incredibly passionate and we were at it until the sun came up. I remember my abs FREAKING hurt the entire day that followed because of the amount of core work my body endured. I literally thought I was going to die.

I’m not sure how this was brought on, or why we thought it was a good idea, but after a week of knowing each other, I moved in. It must have been the initial passion, before we knew what we were getting ourselves into. I’m not saying I regret it.....I just wish I fucking didn’t. When I look back, it’s difficult to remember the good times. There were plenty of them, but it was always when we were fucked up. I can’t remember one decent memory with him while we were sober... Let alone, him.

When I first started typing this, I wasn’t really expecting to relay these parts of the story, but I feel as though they’re important. It’s important to know the whole story, not just the parts I want to remember. I think he needs to remember these as well....

The second I moved in, we were already doing more drugs, sometimes pairing it with acid. The acid was always amazing...we could watch the sky, the ceiling or walls for 8 hours just giggling and enjoying the show. AJ would always come home with narcotics that we couldn’t pronounce. He didn’t even care where they came from. But he’d gladly share them for free, and I was always along for the ride. I’m not gonna lie, it was a blast long boarding down the street seeing the world from a completely different view. I enjoyed snorting free cocaine from his heroin dealer, and I enjoyed that he always gave me what I wanted. But when we became sober and our serotonin levels were depleted, he would use these things against me. He thought that just because he gave me a home, a place to sleep, a place to put groceries I bought, and all the drugs I could ask for, that things needed to be his way. I remember that part the most.

There was this night in particular that we were fighting. I went outside sobbing. My neighbor across the way was outside smoking a cigarette, and he came over to console me. He thought cocaine would make me feel better, and that I should go inside and ask Daimen if he wanted to join. I’m not sure what this 50 year old was thinking, or what the fuck I was thinking going into a strange man’s house offering me free drugs. But he agreed, and we went over there. I did half a line and my nose started burning like a MAD man.

Turned out to be meth.

I think Daimen knew before we started, and I think I kinda knew, too. But we were having the worst night, and our only happy experiences together were when we were fucking wrecked. So I disregarded the random glass shards in the white powder, and just let it rip. I didn’t expect it to hurt so bad..

Just that half line.....I was up for 36 hours. Maybe I did more....maybe I didn’t. Not sure if I’m ready to admit that yet. But the 3 of us, along with our 36 year old 2x prison sentenced female neighbor, stayed up until 8am just talking. I’m not saying I condone meth, because I fucking don’t, but that night I had thoughts that I had never fucking imagined having. I went on a 2 hour rant ALONE about what later ended up being about Tibetan Buddhism. I knew absolutely nothing about this non religious practice, but I wrote everything down and looked it all up later and I had described it all to a T. I spent the rest of the day mesmerized by this new way of thinking. I even cried at one point and had to remind myself over and over and over and over again that “one day my thoughts will slow down.” I couldn’t figure out what was happening, but it felt like my brain and my ears were going to blow up.

Right after our 7 hour conversation about Buddhism, the economy, how the hippies have it all figured out, and just life in general, Daimen and I went cliff jumping. I was nervous because I wasn’t sure when my energy was going to drop, but we went and spent the entire day there without any problems. I even remember saying, “guys.....we can fly.....we just haven’t figured it out yet.”

Boy did Daimen and I fly that day.

Once we were doing mushrooms with another neighbor closer to our age, a heavy narcotic pill addict. I was having a conversation with his dog, Mitsy, when suddenly Daimen screamed at me and Derek, “I can’t fucking believe you!”

He stormed out and we kinda just starred at each other in bizarre, dazed confusion.

“You should probably follow him.....” he finally responded after my endless telepathic questions. Apparently.....while Derek was telling a story....Daimen “read between the lines” that had NOTHING to do with me or even another girl, and “knew” that we were sleeping together. I ended up locking myself in our room half the night and watched The Goofy Movie while he banged on the door and screamed at me the entire time. It was nice though....at least I got to feel like God.

The following weekend, we were enjoying the show on the ceiling, probably for the 100th time at this point. There were thousands of different species of birds; swallows, pheasants, peacocks, ravens, doves, humming birds, dragon looking birds, the works. We had just got done seeing the new movie Lucy with Scarlette Johanson, and were inspired to create a better story. Maybe we just wanted an excuse to escape again, we were always really good at that. I think it might have been this same night, I can hardly remember. It was either the night I thought I was pregnant and we were excited, or it was the night AJ came home fucked up on alcohol and heroin, and he was fucking GONE. He barged in excited about something downstairs and he’d just start talking in circles. You know, exactly what super chatty people do; talk in circles and explain what they’re about to explain what they’re about to explain and either never get to the point (or do) or forget what they were talking about. He HAD a point, he just couldn’t fucking get to it. He spent 45 minutes talking in circles, and I even recorded the whole thing. AJ was frustrated we weren’t understanding him and were trying to rush him to get to the point, so his defense mechanism of dealing with this was ultimately locking us in the apartment. This dude acted like an entire battle was about to blow up, for this tiny little mother fucker held his entire weight to the door for hours. It’s not like we were trying to leave, but Daimen did try to talk sense to him. I think he fell asleep outside the apartment after a while, and we went back to what we were doing.

After AJ sobered up and calmed down, he invited a girl over. It could have been the next day, it could have been a month later. Honestly I can’t piece together an actual time line because of all the fucking holes eroded into my head. But she came, and I loved her. Her name was Bridgette, and she was a beautiful African woman. Totally and completely out of AJ’s league, but we ran with it. We popped MDMA and rode down to Mill Ave, the opposite side of the mall. I remember taking the train for the first time in my life that day, and I remember feeling really weird. Maybe it was because it was the third day in a row I did Molly, or maybe the vibe of our group was just off. But I pretended to have a good time. The only thing keeping my high up was remembering that I was high.

We walked into a shop, I think it was called Hemp HIgh Hippie or something, most definitely had 3 H’s. Or maybe it was the shop next to it....but when we walked in, I felt like I was home. It wasn’t necessarily a metaphysical shop, but it had drug rugs, incense holders, books. I found an astrology book and I HAD to have it. I kept saying, “Guys, we were so meant to be here today, I’m so happy we’re here today! We were meant to be here!” It took me almost 4 years to realize this book was written in my home state of Minnesota.

When we arrived home, Bridgette needed to leave. She didn’t have a vehicle, and I believe she spent her train money on drugs or a book that day. Either way, I was her way home. I remember being avidly irritated, but my loving heart was still there, even if I couldn’t remember it. I drove her home, and when I came back 40 minutes later, I watched Daimen walking down the stairs in handcuffs being arrested.

He was in jail for 9 days, apparently our landlord called the police because she could smell marijuana from our apartment. AJ had his medical card, and I did as well, but not only was it expired, it was only for the state of California. If I had not taken her home, I would’ve gone to jail.

Even though I was miserable without him, I still felt a sense of relief. Not enough to convince myself that I’d ever leave him, but we had developed a bond at that point that I've NEVER created with anyone else, because I will never do what I did with him, with anyone else. But with that being said, I was borderline distraught, miserable, and ecstatic. I was free, but I was afraid to be free. I had become so attached to him at this point that even though he got sent to jail over a drug charge, I still stayed him him. And we would play this game over and over again..

In June, 2014, we were watching The Goofy Movie again and he wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t really feeling it, but he kept trying. I gave in and it hurt to have his fingers inside of me. I thought it was because I was like the Sahara Desert, I tend to get that way when I’m stoned. But then he started getting obviously upset and actually started to cry. I remember thinking, “....if anyone is going to cry, shouldn’t it be me?”

He gave me herpes... He willingly fucked me unprotected for months knowing this and failed to tell me. I had the worst breakout of my life. He left that weekend and I had another modeling gig at a Foam Party. I got to dance on stage with the DJ I was working for, while Daimen was out of town in Prescott working at a job that I had helped him acquire. I was upset, and I wanted to let lose. My 360lb and 6ft tall black DJ/Manager was feeding me shots when we got back to his house with other models. They all said it was to help me let my guard down so that they could get to know the real me. I didn’t realize they drugged my shots with MDMA. He admitted it to me the next morning when I “woke up” that he gave me 3 point of molly to “help.” I guess I might’ve mentioned the amount I had been doing, so he thought he would “surprise me.” I’m sure he told me he gave it to me that night at one point, but I don’t remember agreeing to it at all. I remember watching raw footage of a series he was directing for a show on NBC, and I just blacked out. I peaked through occasionally, but I could never see anything. But I could hear his deep voice, asking me questions. Really personal questions. Seductively. Wrongfully. Very nauseously. Everything was black, but I could hear his voice. The next thing I know, it’s 10:30am. I’m in a bed I don’t recognize and my clothes are on the floor and the DJ was sitting in a black swivel chair fully dressed playing with his phone.

“Wow....? What the fuck? What happened last night? How did I sleep until 10:30??”

“What do you mean? You haven’t even gone to sleep yet.”

........

June 13th. Friday the 13th. 2014. Him and the other models were all in on it... At least the mother fucker got herpes.

I lied in bed for 2 days. I didn’t even cry. I just faced the brick wall against my curtain-less windows while the sun blazed in my face. I didn’t even care how much the sun hurt. I had the window open during 120 degree weather and I didn’t shut it the whole weekend.

When I finally did get up, I went over to Derek’s. We snorted 80mgs of methedone together, and then I felt better about what happened. Daimen was coming home that day, and I was prepared to pretend like it never happened. What I wasn’t prepared for was how much I needed to make the pain go away, and I was willing to do anything. And sometimes “anything” consisted of doing too much, and too much consisted of blacking out countless times and waking up having a melt down while Daimen attempted to restrain me. I accidentally admitted to him about what happened, but I woke up while confessing, caught myself, and claimed it happened the day before my birthday, the week before I met him. I said it happened April 13th, and he believed me. I never told him it was when I was with him.

I remember after 3 months of ups and downs, that not only was I still craving meth, I also needed to get the fuck out. At one point I packed all my clothes and we were threatening each other like it was nobody’s business. I ended up not leaving, but I never unpacked my clothes. I didn’t need to, because I left soon after. It’s just that......he came with me.

My grandparents said that I could move back in with them, and while I was loading my car he started loading it up with his things, too. I didn’t stop him, I had never been in a situation like this before. In the back of my mind I knew that with him gone, so would all the drugs and the future memories I could’ve had high. With him.

We lived with my grandparents for 9 months together in a camper on the property. I don’t know how the FUCK we lasted an extra NINE months, but we did. It was fueled with fights, me always drinking too much and him always instigating the fights and then blaming me. He would even yell at me about how I talked to my own family, telling me that I’m making him look stupid unless he gets me under control. So I threw a litter box at him.

On Mother’s day I clipped roses from the garden and wanted to drive two miles down the road and give them to his mom. They ended up going in the trash because he didn’t want me leaving the house or giving them to her in the first place. I still can’t figure out that fucking idiotic mess.

There was another time that I was upset in his direction, and I needed to be alone. I tried napping on the couch, but he kept nagging me. I went to the guest room and tried locking myself in, but it still ended with him screaming into my ears while he forcefully held me down on the bed that I was a fucking bipolar bitch.

Soon after I attempted kicking him out. I remember him throwing his clothes on the patio near the camper screaming, “Is this what you want?! Huh?! I’m LEAVING. I DON’T fucking love you, I STOPPED loving you a long time ago! Is this what you want?!!!” I sat on the porch swing in silence, not even looking at him. He reacted very badly to my stone face, non reaction. So he got down on his knees and begged me, BEGGED to let him stay and that he was sorry.

And I fucking let him stay.

There was another time we were at his best friend’s frat house. Normally there were a minimum of 20 gorgeous college women dancing in dresses worth more all my tattoos combined. There was always great music playing, the pool in the backyard was always a perfect 80 degrees, there were bongs everywhere, and a typical morning consisted of wondering who the fuck was sleeping on the kitchen floor. We always had mirrors around the house coated in cocaine and MDMA, nothing else really. But this day, it was just the 4 of us. Me, Daimen, Phil, and Rose. I loved Rose. She was beautiful, amazing, and the perfect definition of a lotus. I did 9 points of MDMA that night, I’m pretty sure D and I did the most that night. In the middle of the night, the 4 of us lied by the pool while Rose fed us fucking grapes. It was fucking GREAT. We would take turns wearing goggles and lying down at the bottom of the 9ft pool and we’d watch each other do cannon balls from down below. It was honestly the best day of my life. I just wish I could’ve made sober memories feeling this way.

Rose ended up...losing. If that makes sense. She didn’t want to live anymore. She became homeless, and I gave her a place to stay. She stayed for some time, but she stopped caring. One day she just left, and I never saw her again. I saw her once, and she seemed okay. Apparently found a place to stay. But when I went to go back, she wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened to her, but I never found her again. Phone became disconnected, she stopped going to Phil’s. I like to believe she went back to California....but honestly have a hard time believing she went back to her abusive mom.

May 2015, I was working at Kohl’s in Mesa down the street from my aunt. I suddenly got a flat tire, and I wasn’t able to pick AJ up from the airport. I called D to relay the message, but he didn’t seem concerned.

“I’ll call you after work, let me know if you find a ride to the airport,” I had said to him. Sun down came around, and I walked to my aunt’s. I called him and he apparently was already with AJ and they were on their way to a hotel party.

“Cool! When are you picking me up?” I asked him.

He never picked me up....all of our friends were at this hotel, and he claimed he thought I was busy with my family. Never invited me to go, never tried to even figure out a way to get me there. Just became radio silent, and hours later I received a photo of a hotel full of people and they were all doing drugs together. Without me. I was fucking livid. I threw my phone in a bucket of water after I told him to FUCK off. I spent the entire next day at this volunteer organization having the worst time. My crew took a photo together at the Children’s Hospital in Phoenix, and because I was standing next to a guy (holding a CHILDREN’S book) automatically, he thought I was cheating on him. Which made the event even WORSE. It was posted on facebook and he just went off on me. I didn’t even have a chance to break up with him, he broke up with ME. Maybe this was when I threw my phone in a bucket....I can’t remember.

I sobbed. I melt-downed SO hard. I was the fucking definition of chaotically unstable. My aunt’s house consisted of her and her husband, plus both her teenage daughters, 14 and 16. And 8 puppies. This was a very cookie cutter family, and none of them still have any idea what D put me through. The only thing their life had in common with mine was that their mom loved wine just as much as I did, so she bought it for me. But I was still being unstable. So while I was crying, screaming, and throwing up in the bathroom (must have been from the withdrawals honestly) she drugged me. She kept pushing this “tea” onto me, even had it in that traditional, cliche Beauty and the Beast tea cup. It was beautiful. I woke up hours later and it was the middle of the night. I woke up alone in Brianna’s bed, groggy. I suddenly remembered what happened and my unstableness arose once again, but not for the last time. This lasted for 5 straight days...

During my last days in Arizona, I wrote him a 3 page letter. Maybe it was 2. Maybe it was more. I drew him a photo (actually Brianna did and I took the credit) and I wrote him a poem. I also wrote my thoughts, about how this needed to happen. We can’t do this anymore. He needs to find a Capricorn. Blah blah blah. Then in the end, I had an epiphany.

“Let’s try this again in 3 years. We need to grow, but separately.” The tangent progressed, and by the end I was feeling quite a bit better. I remember crying, I remember thinking, “I figured it out! I figured it out! I know the secret to life!”

June 7th, 2015 I moved back home to Minnesota.

It’s been 3 years since I’ve seen D. And looking back on all this, I’m still curious... He’s in college now, enrolled at some school in Iowa. He’s got his shit together, he’s sober, and he’s getting a degree in alternative medicine. His story about his life recently sounds compelling, and I was willing to spend the weekend with him. My mom doesn’t know any of what I’ve said tonight, but she knows enough that....I just couldn’t go. I’m 24 years old now, I moved in with my mom 2 weeks ago because I caught my most recent ex boyfriend cheating on me. I even moved out before noon. Just in time for the 3 year mark...

I thought this was a sign. I thought I was meant to go. But the universe had other plans, because this plan involved my family finding out who I was going to see, and they were fucking livid. I can understand though....I’ve blocked out all of this information for years....I’m not sure if I want to involve myself with him again either. Like I really couldn’t decide up until this morning. And it’s because of what happened last night.

It’s a long story. Not as long as this, but long enough that I don’t want to spend another hour explaining it. I had a date, a questionable Aquarius. Very aloof, very reserved, fucking sucks at communication. I met him a year ago and we had a moment, like a movie moment. I never saw him again until recently, but he was different from when I first met him.. Before he was confident, rebellious, probably because he was on a lot of cocaine. I left his house last week thinking, “God that was awful. I’m definitely never seeing him again.” And I really wish I would have listened to that voice in the back of my head, because when he asked me on a date, I was fucking baffled. I agreed for some reason, only to get stood up. Once again, I chose all the plans. Like always. He was supposed to meet me at US Bank Stadium in Minneapolis last night, but he never showed. Still hasn’t even texted me. I waited for him BEHIND the stage by the front doors of the building waiting for him for 3 hours, when I could have been spending it with Ariel and her new husband instead. I fucked my whole night waiting on a guy I fucking knew wasn’t going to show. I had seen it coming, but I wanted to believe differently. He was a solid winner at only sending me a few vague texts a day, but I still wanted to believe that we could recreate the first experience we shared together. I wanted to believe that he only just felt awkward that an intimidatingly cute Aries was alone with him in his apartment. I wanted to believe that if we hung out in public and had the opportunity to dance, something I just recently found out that I love doing, that it would be different. Maybe he would see my worth, maybe he would come around. But he didn’t. That fucking asshole even told me that morning he was coming when I asked, and he still had the audacity to do what he did. I sobbed for 2 hours during the show. I even missed the Guinness Book of World Records worlds LARGEST pillow fight. I mean, I was in the center of it, but I had my head in both my hands sobbing, probably from starving the previous 12 hours honestly.

An African woman named Marie found me alone, prayed for me, and told me to get up and dance. So I did. I cried the whole time, thinking about my most recent divorce, thinking about how my best friend that I fell madly in love with just fucking threw me away like garbage, even after I left my husband for him (not really, but still). I thought about the whole day, I thought about Arizona, I thought about all the fucking bullshit anyone has ever put me through. This woman Marie turned out to be an Army veteran. Turned out, her husband that she had 3 kids with cheated on her while she was in Afghanistan, while she was also being assaulted by another soldier. This woman went through all of this, plus so much more, and told me that despite all of this, she was the only woman in her unit and refused to let any of the men see her cry. She told me her story, and I felt pathetic crying for being hungry and being stood up by a guy who I only idealized.

This amazing stranger, this baffling and shockingly strong woman made me realize that God is here for me, always has, and always will, never left, never will. That the universe would never make me go through something I couldn’t handle. That all pain is just weakness leaving the body. So with that being said, the whole experience last night was meant to make me strong. I’m being prepared for something greater, and that’s what last night was all about. Being prepared.

My revelation last night was that I’m never allowing anyone to have an opportunity to hurt me in any way that I find unacceptable. No one gets to steal my soul anymore. No one gets to tell me who I am, what I’m not and what I should be. So with that being said, anyone who has EVER wronged me is gone. Everyone who has ever failed to see my worth doesn’t ever get to have a spot in my life. Not ever again. I can’t look back, wishing and hoping I can change things and make them different. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Whether I try to make it or not, whether I hope or wish or force or accept, it will. I’m done trying. I’m done fighting for anyone but myself. I’m all I have, all I will ever want to have, and I’m never trying for anyone ever again. I’m tired of all the fucking fake love. If it’s meant to be, if someone really wants to have a spot in my life, they’re gonna have to try for more than a couple hours. More than a few days. Maybe even more than a year.

With all of this being said....I’m fine being alone. And I plan on staying this way...

I’m sorry, D.

*Marilyn by G-Easy plays*

#personal #about me #all memories turn to gold #g-easy #marilyn #edm #drugs #meth #abuse #life #hope #love #memoriesturntogold #memories #mdma #storytelling #My writing

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