im such a tourist in my own city


Back in February, at some unholy hour of the night a blog on my dash posted about wanting a thread where Sherlock & John were demon hunters. A brilliant idea that prompted me to respond encouragingly.
A decision that lead to the poster FLOODING my IM in all capslock about demon hunter aus not even a hello or greeting…
& like any other rational person, I realised this bitch was crazy & since crazy is my first language, I immediately did the same right back. Fast forward to March when I finally met my wife, Mikki ( as she finally introduced herself ) in person for the first time in NYC. Walking a quarter length of the city & ordering pizza to the hotel room & spending the whole day telling Mikki to not be a tourist in her own goddamn country. Jump ahead to May, where she spent a week with me & #Carly at our house; drunk streaming, watching guys pee on my lawn, threatening to push each other off the CN Tower & over Niagara Falls, & laughing as she was legally allowed to drink in Canada.
Now, in a matter of weeks, Mikki will be returning from war to spend Christmas & NYE with me in Canada & both #Carly & I LITERALLY cannot wait for this. Its hardly been a year, yet in such a small time Mikki has become one of the best friends I’ve ever had. So enjoy these nice words because, tomorrow its back to normal but I love ya so much. You mean the world to me & I am so lucky to have a friend like you.
So have a very happy birthday, I’ll talk to you later. 💙🍅

— ( @strongmoralprinciple / @lavieestunefleur )

im upset because im tired of it. im tired of everything; all the false promises, the fake hope, the “i love you’s” that were only ever a cover up for the fact that you were bored and needed someone who stuck around and i stuck around you like a tourist in New York City, i was hooked. im tired of the fact that my own parents treat me like shit and expect me to come home every night and that they get mad when i don’t. mom, have you ever thought that the reason i don’t come home is because every night i cry alone in my room and im sick of only these outer space poster covered walls wiping away my tears, while you are on the other side yelling, or saying how i just never come out of my room. i am tired of staying up until 3am, crying, listening to my best friends begging me to hold on. i am trying but nothing seems to be quite working. and i am sorry. im trying as hard as i fucking can. i have been playing music so loud that my thoughts seem to silence but i can’t shake this feeling of loneliness and how it haunts me. i can’t shake the fact that in a room full of people, i still feel so utterly alone, like everyone isn’t really seeing me, but seeing my bones underneath. they see a walking corpse but no one ever bothers to give me any flowers or consolation. i think some
people are barely holding on, i think sometimes all we need is to know someone would mourn us when we’re gone. and call me selfish, but i can’t stop imagining my own funeral. i think i would want sunflowers, i don’t think i would be able to handle the tears. and i get it. people care about me, probably more than i could ever even grasp. but i am so tired of not believing it, i wish i could silence the fucking doubt that is raging in my head like a storm that never really comes to an end, just pauses. im scared one day that im gonna end my storm, that im gonna lose all my fight and all the color will be drained out of my body. you see, the problem is that i don’t want to give up, i just want some peace and quiet for longer than just a phone call or the nights when im with the people that actually keep me here. i need this, so i can have room to be happy and love unconditionally again. because i am so tired of falling and bringing the ones that love me down with me. // i don’t know how i ended up here, but im trying to fight my way out.