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its been almost exactly a year and i’ve kissed six different boys since you but somehow it feels like yesterday that we were helping each other feel numb in any way either of us knew how and i don’t know what to think about that.

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i move out in 66 days and i’m not scared nervous excited anxious or anything i just feel numb to it all its like i’m just going to camp for a little bit instead of a college 10 hours away from home

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it’s like I forgot to keep breathing once you left

even though you were never really here in the first place

I need air my lips are turning blue

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hey come over

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pick up the phone now
put down the gun

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Ten Boys I’ve Kissed
  1. He proclaimed his love for me in the middle of 7th grade English class one day while we were discussing Shakespeare (Hamlet, if I remember correctly). The next week, he broke up with me because I told him that I hated how his gum tasted.
  2. We floated in the ocean for hours, talking and laughing and pretending we hadn’t just met each other an hour earlier. everything felt wrong and right at the same time, but maybe that was just my body slowing turning into a burnt husk of itself. that was one of the worst sunburns I’ve ever gotten.
  3. He approached hooking up like it was a competition- but I never understood what exactly he was trying to win when he bit my lip so hard it bruised, and I had to tell everyone I got hit with a door for two weeks.
  4. He used too much tongue.
  5. He made my lips feel tingly, and tasted like a rainy day, if rainy days tasted like whiskey and fire and vanilla and smoke. I still can’t watch those movies without thinking about those nights we spent upstairs, enjoying our secret little sanctuary where nothing mattered except how much alcohol was left.
  6. I was drunk off of vodka lemonade. He had a nice smile and good music taste. But waking up to that hickey the next morning was not worth any of it.
  7. He kept asking if he should get out a condom as we rolled around half naked on someone’s little sister’s bed. Instead of answering, my best friend walked in and threw my clothes at me so I could get out before the party got busted.
  8. His face is hazy but I can still remember how warm his skin was and how he wanted to be a surgeon one day. I told him that I hoped he would, and I still do.
  9. He let me fall asleep on his chest while he drove me back to my car and then the polite goodnight turned into fogged windows and totally missing curfew.
  10. He told me how all he really wanted was to have a relationship like Lily and Marshall’s, and how he wanted more beer. I said to choose one, so he pulled me onto his lap, leaned in close, and stole my beer.
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I’m not allowed to miss you because you were never mine and that makes my heart hurt a little bit because when things were good you were one of the best friends I’ve ever had and somehow you got me and my psychosis and that was just a really nice thing in my life

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yeah okay we all know that I should have left that school freshman year because I don’t fit in and it’s way too hard but it’s a little late to still be yelling at me about it. I have one more semester left before I graduate and yeah it’s been rough but can you stop yelling at me? I know my choices are sooooo limited because of my horrible grades and I’m taking responsibility for that because I’m going to be okay wherever I end up so please stop acting like it’s the end of the world because I don’t regret anything. yeah so maybe I didn’t work as hard as I should have in class, but I learned more about myself and how to finally reach happiness and that’s more important than getting into a sorority okay? four years ago I thought I was going to kill myself before I even made it to sophomore year, let alone college. but here I am. I stopped cutting, I started eating healthily again, I put myself out there and stopped living in fear of what ifs. I’m not the happiest I’ve ever been right now but that’s okay too. just let me make my choices and let me deal with the consequences. it’s going to be okay.

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the irony of this situation is not lost on me. last year, you were the wrong boy in the right place at the right time. this year, you were the right boy but you were 5 minutes late and god if only you knew how badly I wanted to kiss you instead of him maybe the night would have ended differently. maybe it could have been your body I woke up tangled up in, your arms around me instead of his.
but now you’re angry at me for kissing someone else but you didn’t have to go and hook up with a girl that hooked up with even more people than I did last night. god. this is fucked up. I just want to know that we’re still friends at least. please don’t let this be a repeat of last year. please.

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"I don’t know which is sharper: your collarbones or your tongue."

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help i forgot how to be happy again

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I can’t help but think that I was never supposed to make it this long, that I’m living on borrowed time. Maybe that’s why my priorities are kind of different than my friends’. I don’t know how to prepare for a future that I never planned on having in the first place.

But how do I tell people that when they ask why I still don’t have a clue as to what I’m doing next year? How do I tell them that I’m still just taking it one day at a time, that so much can and will still change between now and then?

Nine months is a long time. It’s a really fucking long time.

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i lied.

it hurt more than anything, but i craved every second of it.

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self-sabotage is pretty much the only thing I’m good at these days

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that book put my emotions into words so perfectly and made it seem so logical and rational and Sylvia Plath is my hero