Born to write silly little romance books, forced to be a psych major
i wish i could let them know that i'm not thin, not even close to it. i feel fuller every day and nothing is stopping me because i think i might be healing but i don't think those who heal get destructive thoughts like this and i don't mind being the enemy and contrarian of my own mind because it only reminds me how sick i am and i love knowing how sick i am, it makes me feel worse and i know that i achieved my goal but sometimes i feel alone because who could i really talk to about this who would understand and cradle my face in their hands and plant kisses on my forehead and tell me that they'll look after me forever and i'll never have to feel like this ever again
nadia waheed, "after rego," 2022, oil on canvas
you dont deserve me you deserve something else, maybe not better and maybe not worse but someone else. we both deserve other people. you bring out the worst in me.
its actually okay that you let go first because i wouldnt have moved on otherwise
“your my best friend, now i’ve got no one to tell i’ve lost my best friend.”
….
sometimes i think about how hard it is for me to cry and how numb i feel about everything, i wish i was still a crybaby i miss who i was before i let the emptiness take me over
my girl ghosted me. hope i die
sometimes the tragedy of distance is very simple. i want to get groceries with you
i want to sit in the lap of a pretty girl and kiss her stupid. intertwine my hands with hers and watch her smile and pull me closer. i want to wrap my hands around her shoulders and feel her arms around my waist and trace her lips and be lost in her warmth forever. i want our noses to bump accidentally so we pull back and look at each other and laugh over what we have. i want to kiss her lips and cheekbones and neck and jaw and forehead and eyebrows and everywhere. i want her to hold me and trace kisses down my neck and touch me in ways i've never touched myself. i want a girl to lay me down on a bed and make me hers