When The One You Loved Moved On (And You Didn’t)
This is the guy that you thought was perfect for you. This is the guy that you would stay up all night talking to on the phone because you wanted to hear his voice.
This is the guy that you thought was perfect for you. This is the guy that you would stay up all night talking to on the phone because you wanted to hear his voice.
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.