simple city

she walks into our one bedroom apartment. “why did you come home?” she says, leave her alone. she said i “give her headaches because she was drinking with her friends, anyway, what the fuck is it to you?”

wow. i suppose i could call it a moral dilemma.

from what i’ve seen in the past few months, i have realized that i hate liquor. i hate drinking, i hate what it does to people. i hate the very concept of losing control; of not being able to coherently think and act and speak and do. i hate it. i hate it. i hate it. to me, it’s poison. it’s disgusting. it’s ugly. people need to live their lives the way they want, but it just doesn’t work for me.

and yet there is this little self destructive thing inside of me screaming to just get so completely drunk that i can’t even stand. or think. especially think.

when i was 18 this boy broke my heart. i went all crazy like any 18 year old girl losing her very first love would do. i was destructive. destroyed. and i put myself back together. and it wasn’t until today that i finally realized why he did it. he saved me from so much more hurt. he did it with the false pretense that he didn’t care about me, but what he really meant was that he cared too much to make me keep putting up with his bullshit. i understand it now. now, i’m in love. i’m so much more deeply in love than i ever imagined i would be with anybody ever, and the girl i’m in love with is completely extraordinary and unprecedented. i am putting up with her bullshit. it’s making me realize that when i thought that boy was being weak, he was being very strong by pushing away something so good to him. and i am realizing that some people can’t even do that.

my heart is awful and i want it out of me right this instant.

Today I admitted to myself (and one of the best friends that I have ever had) that I am a bad friend. It was very hard to do, as I have always percieved myself otherwise, but I realized that I have been nothing short of exponentially terrible to the people in my life who deserve so much better than that. Since I’ve been small, I’ve been quite literally abandoning the people I care about, with only exceptions of two people I know. While I haven’t truly abandoned them in the heart, because I really do care about my friends (regardless of how awful I am at showing it) I realized it’s not okay to just not be there. I suck. I really suck. And I don’t know how to be a better friend, but I’m going to have to buck up and learn pretty damn soon, or else I’m going to lose the people who matter to me.

Click click whirr. Pause twang click beat click click… click. My brain doesn’t stop. It can’t now. It won’t shut down. If it does, I’m afraid it will never turn back on.

Underneath the stairs is my heart. What an odd place for a heart, you may think. It is all stringy, pulled apart, the color of shit. My heart looks like vomit there, under the stairs. It still beats; palpitating unenthusiastically, it sits patiently, too weak to find its own way to somewhere warmer and more well lit. Perhaps it has been spit on. Stabbed. Punched or stepped on. Under the stairs. Its anger is mediocre, although it knows somewhere hidden deep in its cavernous anatomy, it should be furious. As furious as it was trying to protect the heart that left it there under the stairs. My heart tries to find it in itself to be strong, but under the stairs, the albiet cliche but very real pieces of it cannot muster up the courage. It is the ugly duckling, and yet it knows that somewhere it is needed to be the beautiful swan. But right now, my heart wants to cry out in defeat. My heart is in a liquor bottle, an empty one. Hidden under the stairs.

Its agonizing under there.

there’s so much going on. good things. extraordinary things. upward from here. my heart feels nice.

today is a really good day.

i am a useless and worthless piece of shit.