not a love letter
Friday
nights would suck, if you wouldn’t stay up with me just to listen to me
crying,even though you have to get up early the next day and I’m upset about
nothing and everything, just like always.
Long-distance
always sucks, but it’s okay with you, because we still talk everyday about
everything and it doesn’t feel like your're miles away. And I don’t mean this in a
cheesy way, because I hate nothing more than that, just in a it’s-nice-that-you-call-me-just-to-hear-what-I’ve-been-up-to-way.
Of all the
human beings I’ve met in this century you’re one of the few I can actually see
myself still talking to in a few years from now on, not just a brief affair,
not just small talk for months and then silence, but something real.
Right now i
don’t know what i want or need or how i could get it, but i feel like you’re
one of the people that are good for me and who would be able to give me
whatever I need, as soon as I know what that is, or even just stand by me as
long as I’m still figuring it out.
I’m not
good at this. There are a lot of things I’m able to do, but this is hard. I’m not
sure why, maybe because i’m generally not good with emotions and I’m scared of
feeling too much as well as I’m scared of feeling not the right things or never
anything at all.
And i don’t
know why it's hard to put this in words, maybe because i think that any kind of relationship is always fragile
and this one is especially fragile because I put my whole head in it and even a
bit of my heart and I’m afraid you’ll drop it, or that I might fuck it up, and
please, let’s not ruin it.
Now let’s never
talk about this ever again.
What we are
We are all replaceable
Out there
is someone who is just as funny as you are,
just as kind,
just as great to hang
out with,
but prettier
and maybe a better cook.
Out there
is someone who is better in bed than you are,
better at blowing dicks,
probably
even richer
and with bigger tits.
Out there
is someone who can not only listen,
but talk and reply,
someone who can sing their heart
out
and eat girls out
better than you do
and someone who bakes cookies at 2am
instead of crying in the shower.
Out there
is someone who smells just like you,
but sweeter,
but sweeter,
less like desperation
or cheap perfume,
who has brighter eyes,
shinier hair
and
softer skin than you.
Out there
are millions of people
who are better than you in every single way,
even
better at just existing,
and the funny thing is,
out there is at least one
person,
who’s even a better you.
Just as
happy as you are,
you laugh the same way,
about the same thing,
your thighs
feel the same way
when they are wrapped around him.
There will
always come someone else along,
someone better,
someone new.
You are
just ordinary
and we are all replaceable.
But so is
he.
We’re not nothing
We don’t like each other,
we never hang out,
we never
kiss,
we never hold hands,
we never argue,
we never talk.
It's never enough,
not enough to mention it,
but it's too much to explain,
too much to handle.
we don’t think about it,
we don’t feel,
we don’t reflect and
we just forget,
we don't connect,
we never touch,
we only lie naked on top of each other
and
sleep side by side.
We don’t lie about it,
because it’s nothing,
it’s a
few hours,
a handful of body parts,
dirty water going down the drain
two bottles of bodily fluids,
awkward eye contact
and a bitter after taste.
We don’t label it,
it’s laziness,
it’s work,
it’s comfortable,
it’s exhausting,
it’s calming,
it’s tempting,
it’s disappointing,
it’s exiting,
it’s fun, hope and regrets.
We don’t enjoy each other,
your taste in movies is
shit,
my taste in men sucks as well,
we’re getting over a heartbreak,
or just
trying to fall in love with ourselves,
we’re here because it makes us feel more
alive,
makes that heart beat again,
restarts as a fistful of flesh and
feelings,
not just a clock ticking in the chest,
and it pumps hot blood through
the veins again,
instead of lukewarm water.
We don’t care about each other,
we get bored and
annoyed,
we’re waiting for that one message,
we’re counting down hours,
we can’t
wait to escape.
We don’t treat each other as friends,
because we aren’t,
we’re nothing more and nothing less,
not friends,
not even nothing.
The case of the closet or the mysterious mystery of Lili’s sexuality
I've always
been fascinated by girls way more than by boys.
My first
celebrity crushes have been girls and my first real life crushes have been girls
too, even though I just thought that I wanted to be like them rather than to be
with them.
I did not
grow up in a particulary conservative household, but in a very religious
community and I never even knew about anything other besides heterosexual
people until I was a teenager with an internet connection and even then, I had
a very one-dimensional image of what “gay” people were and never met anyone
with that sexual orientation in real life.
Fast
forward a few years, Lili’s now a teenager, still very into women and still very much
not aware of that.
Probably
because I was more focused on my guy crushes, because I could talk with my
friends about them and relate to their guy-girl-experiences, while I seemed to
have no one I could talk with about my not very heterosexual thoughts.
Then other stuff happened and I was way too busy with almost dying than to be
thinking about my love life or the genitals of other people.
It took me
a long time until I realized that I could not escape my nature.
And it took
a very pretty, very gay girl on twitter, to catapult me out of the closet and
into the world of new possibilities.
I fell in
love.
And I
thought I might have been gay all along.
But I still
very much fancied men as well.
I had still encounters with men and boyfriends but then with women as well.
I had still encounters with men and boyfriends but then with women as well.
It took a lot of googling and talking to almost strangers, before I had the feeling that I found out what was “”wrong””” with me.
I’ve been
out of the closet to most of my friends and the closest family members for over
a year now and even though I’m not 100% comfortable with labeling my sexuality
as flat out bisexual, I’ve been working on accepting the fact that I’m right
now attracted to both men and women and still working on finding out, which
gender I prefer (which changes a lot on a monthly basis), mostly by making out
with them - which isn’t the worst way to investigate in a case, don’t you
think?
[Warnung vor explizitem content, nicht jugendfrei]
Sorry, i can't hang out with you
I want to
go.
But i can't.
My friends tell me to do it.
My therapist encourages me.
I want
to do it.
But at the same
time I don’t.
I know I wont
go.
I could go.
I could still be there in time if I
leave the house right now.
If I just go now, nobody will now that I struggled
8 hours
to make the decision whether to participate in that event or not.
I had all
day to prepare myself mentally, but I still chicken out.
I’m so
frustrated,
i snap at my best friend and punch the nearest object.
i snap at my best friend and punch the nearest object.
It’s a
wall.
Could have been worse, it could have been a person.
The blood streaming
down my hand feels good.
It shouldn’t, but it does.
It feels like power, like
control, something i've been fighting for every second for years now.
I look at
the blood dripping down my wrist and then wash it off.
I take my
phone out of my backpocket und type in a message:
“sorry, I can’t make it, something
else came up smiley face, heart emoji”
I turn the
phone off because I already know that I wont like the answer.
I go back to my
bed, lay down and cry.
It’s always
the same.
I’ll make plans.
I’ll be excited and hopeful.
It will be fun.
It will
be great.
I’ll be able to do it this time.
The day
arrives, I fail.
I don’t
know which part of me it is, that keeps me from enjoying my life, that makes me
a coward and a terrible person to be around, that chains me to this f*cking
house and makes me a prisoner of my own mind.
I just can't understand it.
I probably wouldn’t
even panic outside.
I probably wouldn’t hate hanging out with people.
It probably
would be fine.
And even if I’d get a panic attack, they would be understanding
and supportive
and I wouldn’t die or embarres myself too much or anger them or disappoint
anyone but myself.
- I can tell
myself that, but I just can’t believe in it.
It’s not
just those obvious things, it’s everything going on on the inside.
I can look
like the most calm and content person, laying in the sunshine
and at the same
time there’s a war going on inside my body.
No matter
what I do, I’m just not able to enjoy it at all.
I keep worrying and thinking
over every single detail that could go wrong
and the fear eats me up
alive.
I’m so tired and exhausted,
because I can’t shut my f*cking thoughts off for just one minute.
I’m having
the worst headache, because the stereotypical darkness in my head is so heavy,
and the migrane won’t go away, because every little bit of light, every bright
thought, is blinding me.
I’m so
angry at myself for letting other people down and for not being able to get my
shit together and my butt out of my comfort zone
- I can’t change it but neither
I'm i able to accept that.
I’m so
embarrassed and uncomfortable with myself and with what that illness does to me,
and I have no idea how to tell new people or old friends about my problem.
So I just
cancel everything, go to bed in the middle of the day and write about it on the
internet.
Subscribe to:
Posts
(
Atom
)
No comments :
Post a Comment