Untitled

☾Grunge blog†☽

get rid of him. i mean it. you will absently check your phone without meaning it, so leave it behind and go sit outside. stack rocks on each other and pretend you’re burying your love alive. leave it there. be sad, but don’t listen to adele or you’ll take him back. blast breakup music. burn your hair with bleach, cut it, whatever. revel in the fact nobody asks you “but will he like it?” who gives a shit. know when you’re overdoing it. know that it’s not a race and some people don’t heal as fast as others, maybe you’re a turtle kind of person, keep your insides soft and when something gets in that shell it fucking hurts. get rid of him. sew up the missing parts with better things. they’ll feel empty at first. that’s okay. that’s okay. empty doesn’t mean endless. it means more room for new things. you’re okay if you’re still upset a year later about things. you’re okay if when you think of him you’re on the verge of crying. just don’t think about him. delete him from your phone if not only to be able to say “sorry who dis” if he ever texts. it’s not about winning the breakup, fuck that, just come home when you can. if he burned everything of course he’s going to win, he fucked you over to begin with; so don’t worry he’s got a new girlfriend and a new job and a nice car. you had to start from scratch. had to plant trees in ashes. if you’re alive that’s a good thing. he tried to kill the loving parts of you and you’re still growing. get rid of him, don’t worry that when you saw him you were in sweats and a dirty shirt. you’re a person who has been entirely hurt. you don’t have to prove you are doing better. you just have to exist without him. my mother always said being happy is the best revenge. so get rid of him. be happy. know that you had literally nothing and you still made it out in the end.

when you live in a house that suffocates you, the joke is that you go crazy in college. dancing on tables, smoking weed every weekday. you’ll settle down eventually.

the joke is that you don’t know who you are without rules. that people out here don’t live by the standards you’re used to. that not everyone is out to hurt you. people here don’t understand why you flinch when plates drop. don’t get why you’re always asking if they really want to be friends or not. it’s a cute punchline. are you the type to do your homework because someone made you? or because the anxiety in your throat is trying to strangle you? how much of your personality is based on being perfect, just in case? it’s funny when you drink too much and lie yourself to waste. see, you needed those rules. they kept you in place.

a black flower is blooming in the part of your garden you never look at. you are all thorns. out here, people say strict parenting allows for you to reach your potential. you are so young and still so, so, so old. you feel your bones grow mold. out here, people say: see? isn’t that funny? daddy issues. not good with down time. when she gets drunk she always cries.

see? isn’t that funny? she puts anything into her body to stop the hurt. sex, drugs, too much coffee. really, without that house, who would she be?

from weheartit

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine (You make me happy when skies are gray)