An Open Letter To The Friends I’ve Lost In Recovery
I still think about you every day. I wonder how you’re doing. I think about whether you’ve become clean as well and my heart aches for the pain you endured going through that process.
I still think about you every day. I wonder how you’re doing. I think about whether you’ve become clean as well and my heart aches for the pain you endured going through that process.
I could see a future for myself. I could breathe again. And it was wonderful.
Dear women who may one day choose to date me, I’m guessing – hoping – you’re not racist by choice. But, prejudice, intolerance and sheltered thoughts can rear their head at any time. It’s like, “racism lite” or “diet racism”; these statements are meant to be harmless, but in reality, they carry a punch to the gut.
Maybe she wasn’t just calling me out to be mean, maybe she was genuinely worried, maybe she actually had a valid perspective.
You made me feel like the consolation prize. You couldn’t have the girl you really wanted so you would settle for my attention when you needed it.
I will overcome this. I will remain hopeful. I will fight this.
He was a cute, funny, overall good guy…. at least so I thought.
We’re in a constant state of feeling everything and feeling nothing all at once.
It’s a horribly fucked up thing to admit, but: I’m ashamed to be a woman.
America’s birthday is right around the corner and despite it being a day of celebration, I find it more suitable to call it a day of absolute hell.