See ya later

I await 2019 with open arms.

I cannot even begin to say how much I have loved and appreciated this year. 2018 has been a beautiful year of hardship, struggle, and so much fucking triumph. This year has taken me through hell and for that I am truly grateful. These past twelve months have ripped me apart and forced me to grow so much taller than I could have ever dreamed. I pray this next chapter treats me so sweetly.

sweet lady justice slay me down

I'm trying to point to my own body to say where it hurts, but I can feel it surrounding me like smoke. How can I even begin to say that I'm fucking crushed? It hurts all the fucking worse when you're being suffocated by hands with love. I'm choking on the words I desperately need to say. I need you to choose me. You're absolutely okay with how things are and that choice speaks louder than anything you could ever say. My mother taught me to never beg for someone's love. It was the hardest lesson to learn, but those teachings are crumbling. Self-care has become an abandoned project. Why keep tending to an exhausted candle jar pretending the flame still burned? I feel like I've been reduced to a fucking box to mark off on a checklist. When did I stop being a person? How is it so hard to explain that the sound of those footsteps make my skin crawl? Somehow I get more answers from saying hello in the dark; you're a ghost now. Trauma isn't pretty anymore. God, I'm so fucking over this