You keep drowning yourself, sweetheart. In whiskey and vodka and worse, but it won’t help. Haven’t you learned by now?
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Tonight ...
For the very first time, I wish I’d never met you.
The heartache outweighs the ecstasy.
I would choose the pain of never knowing you, over the agony of being loved and then unloved by you.
> K.E.
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I’ve loved you ... always. Then and now.
And you’ve let me down. Every. Single. Time.
Which one of us is worse?
The fool or the torturer?
> K.E.
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“She finally got the happy ending,
She was waiting for,
Though she’s lying on the floor,
Without a heartbeat,
She’s happy somewhere.”
-O
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But I loved you.
And I assumed that was enough because
.
.
.
what else is there?
>K.E.
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I don’t deserve you.
I could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve you.
You’re good - truly good. You see the world as it could be. I see it for it’s faults.
You see the best in people.
I see the worst ... haunted by their capabilities to hurt me, you, us.
Despite all of it - my pessimism, my cold-natured heart ... you’ve never tried to change me, never tried to make me ‘better’.
You’ve loved me despite all the horrors. Despite the mistakes and pain I’ve unintentionally caused you.
I will never deserve you, but I can promise I will never stop trying to.
>K.E.
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I love you for many reasons, many things too silly and trivial to say aloud. Even to you.
But I love you most, I think, for your strength.
You have enough of your own that you don’t take from me.
>K.E.
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You’ll find me in the thoughts of forever.
I’ll wait for you there.
>K.E.
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I’ll do whatever it takes.
But you should run while you have the chance.
I’m serious. Go.
There’s no hope left for me, but you don’t need to be lost in the bloodbath.
Save yourself. Please.
> K.E.
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I’m sorry.
So fucking sorry.
I was just trying to survive.
I never meant to take you down with me.
> K.E.
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“She’s tougher than the rest. She’ll live.” - the person who made me this way.
> K.E.
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I know my story is one for the dead.
One my family will read, searching for answers in grief.
I hope they, and everyone else, can find peace knowing that I never gave up. I never stopped fighting - never stopped trying.
I wasn’t made to survive in this world - not with the circumstances I was dealt.
I gave all that I could.
And I left without regret, ready to face whatever - if anything - comes next.
> K.E.
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You didn’t ask me to, but I would’ve taken care of you.
>K.E.
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You didn’t love me. I can stomach that now.
But I loved you.
Fuck.
I loved you. I loved you. I love you still.
> K.E.
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We drink.
My head feels magnificently light.
The weight on my chest goes away.
I crave your mouth, your hands, the sound of your laugh.
The inhibitions drop, our tongues grow loose.
“I’ve really missed you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you leave?”
“... I don’t know.”
It’ll hurt in the morning, but for now - it’ll do.
>K.E.
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Lover,
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
>K.E.
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I was funny. I was strange in a good way. I made people laugh while making them uncomfortable. I had dirty jokes ready at the tip of my tongue. I could make fun of myself without feeling a single sting.
I talked about sports and secrets while drinking $2 beers. I’d take tequila and whiskey shots without flinching.
They called me ‘mom’ because I’d take care of them when no one else would. I carried mint gum in my purse in case someone puked. I’d stroke their forehead and press a cold water bottle to their lips. I’d take their shoes off and tuck them in for the night.
They thought they wanted to fuck me - not recognizing the difference between someone willing to nurture and someone down to suck them off. They respected me even more when I lovingly said ‘no, baby’.
I miss the pedestal. I think I always will.
>K.E.
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