Yesterday, I went into the simulation and I had time to think about in all the ways that I want to fuck my crush and all the ways he’d fuck me over. It was a wild trip filled with flashing images of his smile and his dimples and chaos and hatred and sex and disaster. And I just thought to myself, why did you do this to yourself? Why does his ass look so good in them jeans? Why does his skin glow wearing that color? If I stuck my finger in his dimple will he slap my hand away? But I just want to touch him because it’s nice to feel that he’s real. And I just crave his attention like a child. And since I don’t know how to ask for anything like a child I just sit there and listen to emotional music and pout then stare at his back because even the back of him is so cute. So fucking cute.
Then I want to feel numb because my trust issues and insecurities run rampant. They remind me of times I got chased around my own house with someone at my heels ripping off each layer of my clothes until they cornered me and just took what they wanted time and time again. Or the time when I just said I was going to wash my hair and was torn apart from head to toe for no reason besides wanting clean hair. The times when I wanted to feel empowered and was constantly told that I wasn’t pretty, that I wasn’t shit and I’d never find happiness because no one wants me. And since no one has ever loved me, it sticks to me like super glue because abusers know all the right ways to hurt you.
Even though I smile all the time it’s hard to forget trauma. It’s hard to forget what’s been beaten into you. When I look at him, my crush, I’m happy he makes me feel again but I don’t trust it and I don’t want to know how he feels. 45% because I know he doesn’t like me but 55% because what if he does and I’m stupid enough to let another person in who sees me for someone to belittle, hit or rape.
It’s easier to accept being alone. It’s so much harder to allow someone in and trust that it won’t be like before all the other times you tried. I don’t trust myself and I been high all week, crying all week and doing dumb shit all week because I feel so much. And I am reminded of so much.
And I get my thinking is ahead of itself but there is nothing more embarrassing than calling the police and having them take pictures of the cuts on your face and shutting the door and crying hella dramatic like a fucking movie. I hate being emotional. I hate putting myself out there. I hate advice.
At this point, I just want to fight.