never on my street

musicals ft. summaries

Phantom of The Opera: gross goth guy lives beneath sewer and writes an opera

Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet of 1812: seriously who the fuck writes an electropop opera about a 1200 page russian novel

Hamilton: seriously who the fuck writes a hip hop musical about alexander fucking hamilton

Zombie Prom: you know, taking your dead ex-boyfriend to prom may have seemed like a good idea in theory but im not sure anymore

In The Heights: somehow humorous and depressing all at the same time, also gay

Lizzie the Musical: okay im not kidding this time who the fuck writes a musical about lizzie fucking borden

Heathers the Musical: dating creepy guys in trench coats is probably a bad idea

Carrie the Musical: if you make fun of someone for getting their period, you’re in for a big surprise buddy

Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson: who the actual fuck comes up with the idea to write a musical about the seventh president of the usa

Wicked: green gay meets pink gay and it’s pretty gay

Ghost Quartet: who the fuck comes up with this shit though

Les Misérables: emotional pain feat. gay revolutionaries

Spring Awakening: not explaining puberty to sexually frustrated teenagers is probably a bad idea

Waitress: deep shit blueberry pie and overly lovable characters

21 Chump Street: drugs are not the way to a woman’s heart, apparently

Sweeney Todd: okay no seriously who the everliving fuck comes up with this shit

Love Never Dies: i don’t have any funny joke for this lnd just sucks

CATS: i mean i guess writing a musical about cats may have seemed like a good idea in theory

Starlight Express: what the fuck alw

I don't speak Spanish either.

So, this happened several years ago. My boyfriend and I had been in a long-distance relationship for a long time, and we would see each other maybe twice a year. This was during one of my month-long visits to him over the summer.

We’d decided we wanted to go to one of the nearby malls, and had to take two separate buses to get there. Him living in SoCal, it was fucking scorching; it was probably around 100F. For a “delicate” NorCal girl like me, that feels like death.

We’d gotten off the first bus and were walking to another stop a couple of blocks down to catch the next one. We’re stopped at a corner of a particularly long street, waiting for the light to change so we can cross, and there’s group of three girls behind us. We’re not paying them much mind at first, until I hear one of them go “No, I don’t want to ask them! I don’t even speak Spanish! How am I supposed to talk to them?”

This is where it’s important to note that my boyfriend and I are both of Salvadorian descent, and therefore pretty obviously brown. However, my Spanish is incredibly poor [that’s a whole different story], and I really hate it when people assume that I don’t speak English. It’s rude. But whatever. I guess it happens. It’s what happens next that ticks me off. An attempted whisper: “Look, just ask the girl. Fat girls are always nice.”

Okay. Fine. Not worth my fucking time. I’m not even gonna say anything because it’s hot and who wants to deal with this shit. But then from behind me I hear, awkwardly, “Perdón?” I turn, and it’s one of the girls–surprisingly, one that also looks latina. She sounded like the one who’d claimed not to speak Spanish.

“Yeah?”

She looked a bit surprised, and relieved that I spoke unaccented English. “We were wondering if you could tell us how to get to _____?” Some location. I was the wrong person to ask.

“Sorry, I’m not from around here. You’ll have to ask him.” I gestured to my boyfriend. Again, I’m from NorCal, so I had no idea where anything was down there.

The girl turned to him hesitantly, asked him, and my boyfriend, being friendly, gave them directions. Turns out it was straight down the long street we were on. The girls took off without even thanking us, and the light changed so we finally crossed the street and waited for us bus.

The bus shows up maybe ten or so minutes later, and we’re relieved to be out of that god-awful San Fernando Valley heat. The bus takes us down the long stretch of road, and I see the girls from before trudging down the sidewalk under the merciless SoCal sun.

“I told them that it was right down the street,” my boyfriend says. “I never told them the bus goes there.”

2
Stoned On You

A/N: Hiii. This is a collaboration with me and @minhosmeanhoe . We figured out  that we’re the same person with the same dirty mind and this was the outcome. This is the longest and most smut I’m sure either of us has ever written in our lives and I hope you guys love reading as much as we loved writing it ! The song that goes with this fic is Stoned On You by Jaymes Young

Warnings: smut; smoking (weed), drinking, mentions of violence, hair pulling; I’m sure there is more but idk rn

Word Count: 12,529

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Urban Legends

We ended up getting hundreds of submissions after we asked you guys to submit stories from your countries/cities/towns etc. We decided that it would be a lot easier to make a post with multiple urban legends that have been submitted. Here are 5 that we found to be interesting. We will continue posting more as they come in.

We have tagged those who have submitted these stories to us (unless they asked to be kept anonymous) 

Here we go:

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Supergirl AU

Cat Grant knows her assistants are cheating, she just doesn’t know how yet.

She even knows the exact date it started almost two years ago, when suddenly her constant stream of incompetent aides began to improve, to last longer. All her life her assistants have been barely adequate, but for some reason the last handful have gotten sharper and sharper. 

It’s been three weeks with this new one and, while his performance within CatCo is lackluster at best, he has yet to make a single mistake with her coffee or food orders. And if there is one thing Cat values more than all else its what she consumes; she spends all day creating media for the consumption of millions so what she herself takes in is of the highest priority.

This week she had a stress headache and she sent him off with a screech to get her some sustenance. Now she had very low expectations for this, so imagine her surprise when he comes back with a perfectly made bacon wrapped hamburger (her headache guilty pleasure) and a medium latte with just a dash of cinnamon. 

There is no way on Earth that this Witt fellow should know about that. Her guilty pleasures are closely guarded secrets, and Cat Grant has never explicitly told anyone about her infatuation with bacon and cinnamon (both separate and together). And yet when she needed it the most, he just happens to get it exactly right. This assistant hasn’t even made it a month yet; there’s no way he knows this is a weakness of hers.

Which means there’s a snitch somewhere feeding answers to her assistants.

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I don't speak Spansh either.

So, this happened several years ago. My boyfriend and I had been in a long-distance relationship for a long time, and we would see each other maybe twice a year. This was during one of my month-long visits to him over the summer.

We’d decided we wanted to go to one of the nearby malls, and had to take two separate buses to get there. Him living in SoCal, it was fucking scorching; it was probably around 100F. For a “delicate” NorCal girl like me, that feels like death.

We’d gotten off the first bus and were walking to another stop a couple of blocks down to catch the next one. We’re stopped at a corner of a particularly long street, waiting for the light to change so we can cross, and there’s  group of three girls behind us. We’re not paying them much mind at first, until I hear one of them go “No, I don’t want to ask them! I don’t even speak Spanish! How am I supposed to talk to them?”

This is where it’s important to note that my boyfriend and I are both of Salvadorian descent, and therefore pretty obviously brown. However, my Spanish is incredibly poor [that’s a whole different story], and I really hate it when people assume that I don’t speak English. It’s rude. But whatever. I guess it happens. It’s what happens next that ticks me off. An attempted whisper: “Look, just ask the girl. Fat girls are always nice.”

Okay. Fine. Not worth my fucking time. I’m not even gonna say anything because it’s hot and who wants to deal with this shit. But then from behind me I hear, awkwardly, “Perdón?” I turn, and it’s one of the girls–surprisingly, one that also looks latina. She sounded like the one who’d claimed not to speak Spanish.

“Yeah?”

She looked a bit surprised, and relieved that I spoke unaccented English. “We were wondering if you could tell us how to get to _____?” Some location. I was the wrong person to ask.

“Sorry, I’m not from around here. You’ll have to ask him.” I gestured to my boyfriend. Again, I’m from NorCal, so I had no idea where anything was down there.

The girl turned to him hesitantly, asked him, and my boyfriend, being friendly, gave them directions. Turns out it was straight down the long street we were on. The girls took off without even thanking us, and the light changed so we finally crossed the street and waited for us bus.

The bus shows up maybe ten or so minutes later, and we’re relieved to be out of that god-awful San Fernando Valley heat. The bus takes us down the long stretch of road, and I see the girls from before trudging down the sidewalk under the merciless SoCal sun.

“I told them that it was right down the street,” my boyfriend says. “I never told them the bus goes there.”

TL;DR: Girl assumes boyfriend and I don’t speak English, her friend makes a rude comment about my weight thinking I won’t understand, boyfriend gives them directions to were they want to go but makes them walk in the hot sun instead of telling them the bus goes straight to their destination.

EDIT: The problem isn’t that they assumed I don’t speak English. The problem is that they called me fat and assumed I wouldn’t understand them. Also they didn’t even say thanks for the directions. Just walked away as soon as my boyfriend finished. Rude.

EDIT: “SouCal”

Best Sims:Pets Moment

One time when I was playing Sims:Pets, I kept losing my German Shepherd Molly. She kept running away and the police couldn’t find her so I’d have to track her down myself.
To solve this, I came up with the brilliant idea to change her coat to Bright Magenta.
Other than her tendency to get lost, she was a well behaved dog.
Immediately after dyeing her fur she began acting out and misbehaving, eventually running away.
This time, even I couldn’t find her.
Days went by and my Sims started getting sadder and sadder, missing their dear Molly.
Eventually I got a call from the police saying they found her and were bringing her to us, so I took all of my Sims outside to wait for the car.
It never came.
Instead, my magenta Shepherd comes galloping down the street by herself.
She was acting normal and went inside to sleep.
I was confused about what happened to the police escort but forgot about it until the next day when I checked her inventory.
I found 17 police cars in her inventory.

Seventeen. Police. Cars.

WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU UP TO WHILE YOU WERE GONE?!?!
I KNOW I SAID FETCH BUT I DIDNT MEAN THIS!!!!!
GOOD GOLLY MISS MOLLY!!!!!!!


GUESS WHO SOLD THE CARS FOR $17,000 PER CAR AND BOUGHT THE MANSION DOWN THE STREET

AWEYEAH

Violet

pls enjoy :)

~

She always had her journal and a pen latched in her hand as she walked in. My eyes always amazed on how someone is always at her beck and call, I mean look at her. The way her hair curls down her back, her hips sway as she avoids bumping into people in the hall, everything about her was so pure. The mix of innocence and sweetness excited me, like she has never heard of a bad word or even said one. She walked to her normal spot in Pius, seat just right to get the amount of sun and warmth, and shadow needed. I liked her from the moment I laid eyes on her. Her skirt rose more just because the way her hips were, and I am not complaining. 

The pen tapped her glossed lips as she thought on her new entry. I could smell her sweet Daisy perfume from across the room. She smiled at me when she saw me, like she knows exactly at this time I’m here, waiting for her. “Hi Calum.” She greeted in her soft voice setting the pen in-between the pages of her journal. “Hey, Violet.” I smiled back. “Out of all people, I never would’ve expected you to be this, fascinated in someone.” She giggled as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “I just like that you have such a desire to write, it is quite fascinating,” I winked causing a deep red to spread across her cheeks. She waved for me to come sit by her, and so I did.

“Since you’re so fascinated that I write, take a look.” She turned a few pages back, letting me read on whatever her mind pondered on.

February 23

I notice all your features. I notice how blue your eyes are, and when they become darker as you become frustrated. how your smile is bright and teeth are white. i notice the way your hands grab the pen you hold when you write and how concentrated you look when doing it. i notice everything it;s scary, and i hope you notice me

your mind is a storm. sometimes it’s dark and scary, the other times its light and beautiful. i wanna know what goes on inside there, what’s its like to think. you have never imagined how one word can mess me up. no matter if it’s an “insult,” or compliment. everything you say comes and stays in my mind and i can’t get rid of it. it burns in my brain and makes my head hurt. i never understand what you say if it’s true or just a joke. i just hope it’s out of care.

i cried over you again today. i cried over how much you hurt me. i cried over how much i wanna yell and scream at you. i cried over how much i want you to love me. i cried how i want you to give me answers on us. and it sucks because you talk to all these other girls yet I’m the one who you hurt the most because whatever you say I’m processing in so many ways and then you say I’m joking, i wanna yell because thats not what you made me feel 2 minutes ago…

She must of noticed on how I got caught up in this because she covered the rest of it with her hands. “That’s enough for today.” She said, her voice was full of sadness. “Violet, I never knew how deep you were.” I exhaled. She half smiled, “It’s a blessing and a curse.” I stood up, grabbing her hand. “C’mon I wanna take you some where I think you’ll like.” I laced my hand with hers, surprised she didn’t let go, but rather caress her fingers in mine. I led her to a spot behind the park that had a bench looking onto a lake. “I come here when I feel sad.” I let go of her hand, going to sit on the bench. She quickly followed me, sitting down clutching her journal with her. “It’s beautiful Calum,” She smiled up at me. 

I wrapped my arm around her as she nuzzled into my chest. “You always seem to fascinate me Violet, rather it be writing or sitting in Pius working on homework.” I spoke her. “I don’t understand why Calum, I’m just an ordinary girl.” She giggled. “You don’t seem normal to me Violet,” I took her chin in-between my fingers. Her eyes glazed over mine, flickering to my lips back to my eyes, mine did the same. I found myself leaning in to kiss her plump lips, and she did the same. Our lips intertwined with each others, and I could taste the peach gloss she always sported. We pulled back after a moment, “Who hurt you?” I asked. She sighed, “It’s a long story, I’m not sure you’d want to hear it.”

I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “I have all the time.” She perked up a bit, “Well, my dad abandoned me when I was maybe 10. He left me for weeks with barely anything to eat or drink, so I mostly wandered the streets. I never met my mother, my dad told me she wanted nothing to do with me since I was born, and then my dad and I never grew found of each other. So, I live with my Aunt. She took me in after she saw what my father has been doing to me. I’ve always been scared to be loved or love anyone. Once I got to high school, I met this guy, Josh. I thought he was the one, and I liked him for so long that he eventually gave in and we dated. Once we got to graduation of Senior year, he told me the whole thing was a dare and that he would never love someone like me because we were too “different” and that really broke me. And those writings you read, were about him. It still hurts Calum.” Tears filled up her vision, and she looked down too scared to face me.

I wiped away the tears on her cheek, tilting her head up a bit, “No one should ever feel hurt like that, do you hear me? Violet, I’m so sorry.” She smiled. “It’s ok Calum, I’ve heard the pity and I don’t need anymore of it. Thank you for bringing me here, I needed someone like you.” She looked up at me. “This is why you fascinate me, I never knew.” I kissed her forehead. “It’s really fine. If you really want, we can go back to my place.” She offered. “You think I’m gonna let some pretty girl like you walk alone, you’re not getting rid of me.” I told her letting her stand. “You’re such a dork,” She smiled.

~

After watching four movies with Violet, I’ve learned a lot about her. Her music ranges from Blackbear to One Direction, her favorite color is white, her favorite book is Milk and Honey, and countless details that I’ve come to love. “I can’t thank you enough for actually spending time with me Calum, it means a lot.” She looked up at me. “You know I would love to do anything that involves you.” I smiled. Her room was more girly than I expected it to be. The walls were white, decorated with pictures of her and her friends. Her bed was white, and the duvet was grey with blue pillow accents. She had a full length mirror that had motivational quotes along the edges, along with her makeup vanity that held everything a girl could ever want. There was a white fuzzy rug that coated the wood floors. “Again, you fascinate me.” I said, pulling her into me. “Again, I don’t see why.” She giggled.

“Violet! Ven por favor!” Someone called from downstairs. “Oh, that’s my Tia. I’ll be right back.” She broke herself from my embrace. “Hola, Tia. Que tal tu día?” I heard her ask. “Ay, good. Quien esta arriba?” “Calum,” She replied. “Quien?” “Un momento.” I heard Violet walk up the stairs. “My Tia wants to see you.” She smiled. “I never knew you were Spanish.” I said, following her down the stairs. “There’s still a lot you have to learn about me Calum.” She winked. “Tia, esta es Calum.” Violet introduced me. “Hola, Calum!” Her Aunt greeted. “You can call me, Sarah.” I casually waved. “Preguntarle si quiere quedarse para la cena.” I find this fascinating. “Do you wanna stay for dinner?” Violet asked. “Sí gracias.” I said. Violet laughed at my basic Spanish skills.

We headed back up to her room. Violet sat on her clear chair with a white pillow that was set at her vanity as I sat across from her. “I never knew you were Spanish.” I said, again. “Yeah, my mom is from Spain, and my dad is from Chile, so I have some Spanish decent in me. I grew up speaking it, and my Tia goes back and forth speaking it, you’ll notice it.” She said. “So is Violet your real name?” I asked. She shook her head no, “It’s Francesca, but I didn’t like the idea of being called Fran, and Violet is what my Tia called me from when I was little because she didn’t think I looked like a Francesca.” She said. “Fascinating, again.” I said. She threw a pillow at me, “get a new word!” “Violeta, Calum cena está lista!” Sarah called. “Let’s go eat!” Violet got up and headed to the kitchen.

~

“Thanks for everything today Calum, I had a good time.” Violet broke the silence. “I’m never leaving you, I hope you know that.” I told her. I could feel her heart race when I said those words. “Is everything going to go back to normal tomorrow? Me sitting in Pius for hours and you being adored by everyone?” She asked. I sat up pulling her in between my legs, “Are you kidding me? Violet, the moment I saw you, I liked you. And why you fascinate me is because you’re so strong, you know what shit to get done, you’re everything a girl wants, and so much more to me.” I said. She smiled with small tears falling onto her cheeks, “I’ve never been told anything like that before.” I kissed her, making her feel wanted. Her dainty hands wrapped around my neck as I pulled her into my lap. My hands rested on the skin under her sweater. I felt Violets hands grip the fabric of my tee-shirt, my arms reach over to pull her hands away. I shake my head before speaking up, “No, don’t. Tonight is all about you.”

“Just tell me to stop if you want,” I assure her. She smiled, taking her sweater and pulling it over her head. Her breasts spilled out in her white lace bra. “God you’re beautiful.” I told her. “Have you ever been touched here?” I asked her sliding my hand between her legs running my fingers over her cotton panties. The touch was bold but I could tell she liked it by the way her eyes glazed over. She shook her head no. “I never knew how to ask.” My eyes feel to her bare neck that I could easily cover in purple marks. “Well that’s a shame.” I moved my hand back feeling the heat and the little wet spot forming. “I bet you’re sweet.” I whispered looking back up at her. “I guess you’ll have to find out.” She winked. Fucking hell this girl.

I began rubbing circles on her clit, “God I can feel your pussy getting wet.” “Oh my God Calum don’t say that.” She gasped covering my mouth. “That word is degrading.” She whispered. “Well from what I feel down here, it seems as though you like when I say pussy.” I added pressure to my fingers. She moaned at the contact. “What are you doing to me?” She moaned. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” I whispered. To me her body was like a goddess, her hips nice and curvy, her breasts perky and big, and her ass god I can’t get enough of her. I tapped my fingers on her juicy bottom lip, “Suck.” I ordered. Violet gladly took my fingers in her mouth, coating them. She slid her panties down her legs, her wetness glistened. My finger curled inside her. “Do you think I can add another finger?” I cooed taking her bottom lip between my teeth. “Please.” She whispered before pressing her mouth to mine almost immediately running her tongue along my bottom lips to ask for entrance. She moaned hotly in my mouth when I pushed a second finger inside her. It was a tight fit, but I made it work. “That feels so good.” She moaned with a shaky breath before I sucked on her bottom lip. I quickly discovered my obsession with her mouth. It was just so tasty and pretty to look at.

“Calum, what are you doing to me?” She moaned. “You’re just about to orgasm babe.” I told her, sucking purple and black marks on her neck. “Oh my god, it feels so good.” Her sweet moans filled my ears. “C’mon girl, you can do it. Cum all over my fingers.” I said. Her body shook as her orgasm took over her beautiful body. Violet’s breath was heavy as she pulled up my shirt. “I’ve always found your tattoos attractive.” She said, tracing the inked skin. Her nails raked down my arms making me groan. She began undoing my belt buckle and unzipping my pants. “You’re gonna have to help me because I’ve never had a cock in my mouth before.” I moaned at the way the words came out of her mouth. She dropped to her knees, “It’s so hard.” She whispered struggling to get the zipper down. After she finally got it down, her warm hand dipped into my boxers firmly gripping my cock. Pre-cum was smeared all over the head. Without me saying a single word she swirled her tongue around the head of my cock licking it off.

“Fuck.” I swore throwing my head back. Her tongue ran down my length taking as much of it as she could. “Teach me.” She said, running her lips to the head of my cock. “You’re doing pretty good without me.” I said. She smirked a little to herself, taking my cock in her mouth again. Her hand came up and began stroking immediately. “Look at me.” I instructed. Her eyes looked up at me. She sucked hard starting to bob her head up and down starting to get the gist of giving head. She hummed around me keeping her tongue on the under side. She continued to suck on the tip and stroke the rest. “Shit Violet.” My hands ran through her hair, guiding her up and down my cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum Violet.” I moaned. Her actions sped up, her hands working with what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. “Such a good girl.” I said. I grab her chin, making her face my eyes.

Her eyes were locked on mine and I pulled her on the bed. “Now what can I do?” She asked, almost oblivious to what just happened. “You know what else you can do? You can come up here and let me feel that beautiful pussy around my cock.” I said, my voice filled with lust. “Good, ‘cause I want you like crazy.” She smiled before kissing me. Violet laid back on her bed, ready. I towered over her, drinking in her body. “You ready baby?” I said, positioning myself in front of her entrance. “Always.” She said. Her hips grinded with mine. “God, Calum.” She moaned. One of her hands held onto the head board as the other held onto my bicep. “Fuck Violet, you feel amazing.” I said picking up my speed. “Shit, whatever you keep hitting, feels really good.” Her mind was going into a frenzy. Her moans sounded like music to my ears. None of her quiet self, it was much more vocal. “Calum, I’m gonna cum.” She moaned, her back arching slightly as I continued to hit her g-spot. Her nails raked down my back, filling up with euphoria.

“Come on pretty girl, cum for me again. Cum all around my cock,” My words edged her on. “Oh my god, oh my god!” She yelped. “Atta girl.” I moaned, feeling her walls clench around me. The pleasure was too raw. “Fuck,” I moaned pulling out of her. “I didn’t expect that.” She giggled. My hands massaged her breasts, her humming. 

“You’re gonna be my favorite prized possession.”

ldyglfr62  asked:

My birthday is May 16. I would love a fic that features Age!Gap Everlark with Katniss 5 - 10 years older than Peeta. M or E rating. Thanks for running this fabulous web site.

Originally posted by mister-pulido

Wishing you the happiest of birthdays, @ldyglfr62! Your gift - the penultimate offering from everlarkbirthdaydrabbles, was written just for you by @xerxia31. We hope you enjoy!


When Irish Eyes are Smiling

rated M, for language and adult situations.


It’s not completely unexpected, but it’s still a shock to see it. Thick, expensive card stock, pale pink with roses and their names embossed in gold.

Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne, along with their families, request the honour of your presence at their wedding…

I’m happy for them, I truly am. I’m just still kind of shocked that after nine years together, it took Gale less than three months to marry my replacement.

It’s not like I thought Gale and I would ever marry each other, even if our friends all expected it. And our breakup was completely mutual. But that he moved on so fast is kind of a slap.

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6

Kick-Ass Chicks: Marissa Smith of NYLON Magazine

We can’t imagine that being NYLON’s Senior Fashion Market Editor is easy, but Marissa Smith sure knows how to make it look FUN. We’re constantly checking in with Marissa to stay in the loop for upcoming collections and collabs, and thought it was about time we introduce you to our go-to girl. With a closet filled with color and checkerboard, we just had to take Marissa to the Brooklyn USA Diner for a bright and bold photoshoot. Checkerboard on checkerboard? Yes, PLEASE! Read on to hear about Marissa’s journey at NYLON, and why Vans have been her style staple from the start.

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THE TRAUMA OF LIVING

I: when I was almost three years old my Baby Brother was born. He was sick, not expected to live past the first year, if he even made it that long. While he did, and then some, his life created an absence in mine. Mama stayed with him those first three years of his life, over the course of 20+ hospital admissions. Daddy had to work to pay the bills. I was shuffled. Various homes of family and family friends were second, third, fourth, fifth homes to me. I was always second best.

II: it didn’t hit me until years later. Maybe it shouldn’t matter to me, but it does. We moved down south, my Mama, Brother and me. Daddy was supposed to join us. I only really remember him visiting once, maybe twice. I suppose it could have happened more. I do remember how excited I was. I learned the reason we moved was because Daddy’s job at the mill didn’t look so stable and Mama found work three states away, and he was supposed to look down there too. I don’t think he did. We moved back half a year later. When I think back, I can’t help but feel like I wasn’t enough to make Dad stay. I wasn’t enough to make him follow.

III: parents announce their separation after bringing me home early from my best friend’s 9th birthday party. I am outraged, but deep inside, not surprised. Their anger always did hang heavy in the air. The holes in the kitchen walls said a lot. I blamed myself. If I had been a better kid. If I had been happier. If I had been more, more anything Good… I know now that that doesn’t matter. I felt better when Dad rented a house 4 houses down, as opposed to a few towns away, like later on. It always felt safer with him around even when looking back, it seemed like he hardly ever was.

IV: Dad gets hurt at work. He gets laid off. He moves back in with Mom, has surgery, has a place to stay and recover. He gets better. Finds a job. Mom moves to another state. Takes Baby Brother with her. Better services there. I was already angry from years before. She left me for him those first few years. I never realized how angry I was until I was an adult. I tried my best not to see her for years. Avoidance at almost all costs. She left me again. I’m still second best.

V: Boy tells me he loves me. Boy fills my head with lies. Tells me he loves me. Tells me he lied. Lied. Lied. Lied. Leaves. Comes back. Tells me he loves me. Promises me the world. Lies. All lies. Loves me. Loves me. Explodes. Tells me he doesn’t love me, never did. Leaves. He’s not even dust in the wind. I think he was a ghost. I don’t think I ever really knew him. I don’t think the Boy I knew was real. But he took so much of me with him.

VI: different Boy. Warms my heart. Makes me feel something. Made me think I mattered. Boy’s mother loves me. Boy tells me he loves me. I believe him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Wanting to feel wanted. Wanting to matter for once. Boy leaves bruises. Boy scares me. Boy makes me feel trapped. I am nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I need to be Something. Boy is always mad. Always accusing. I can’t look anyone in the eye. I don’t exist in just a few short months. Boy gives me a split lip. Apologizes. Tells me it was my fault. I now Know. It is Time. It takes time. All the courage I ever had. I look Boy in the eyes. Tell him I am Done. I walk away shaking. Boy finds new Girl a week later. I unravel.

VII: I have moved houses, not Home. With Mama and Brother, with Help I desperately needed. I cannot handle myself. I cannot breathe. I am Too Much. I have always been. I left myself somewhere. I don’t know where to find Her. Can I ever find Her? Can I ever be Whole?

VIII: another Boy, months and months later. Looks at me like I hung the stars in the sky. Like a blind man seeing the sun. Like I meant something. Boy remembers how many freckles I had in kindergarten. Boy opens up to me. Kisses me so hard I forget how to breathe. So different than Boy I dated last. Didn’t leave bruises. Didn’t leave blood. I didn’t flinch when he touched me. I blink. Boy is gone. Bridge is burned. I’m left wondering what it is about me that makes everyone leave so quickly. Why am I never enough?

IX: graduated. Adult. College in the fall, part time. Faking ‘til I make it. Hometown for the summer. Reconnect with a different Boy. Drive around all night, footprints and tire treads all over the city limits.  Kiss him by the creek and almost fall, I’m so scared. I’ve been shaking. I don’t think I ever stopped. So scared of Touch. Scared of Everything. I’m always flinching. Afraid to keep it moving. Boy stops talking to me. I knew it was done the last time I kissed Him. I was Too Much. I will always be. Too Damaged. Never had a chance. I can’t be Something.

X: I am angry. Angry at everything I Was, everything I Could Be. I am hollow and on fire at all times. Seen too many hospital walls. Felt too much. Felt nothing. Felt everything. Upside down. Stalled out on a racing freeway. I do not know anything. Nothing but Destruction. I will burn Me to the ground.

XI: another reconnection. Nice Boy. Leaves. I should have known. Sleep with Hometown Boy because I’m angry. I want to Feel something. Anything. I want to be Useful. What does mattering feel like? Nice Boy comes back. Leaves. Enter Hometown Boy. Fuck. Here comes Nice Boy. I am safe with him under the stars. I can breathe. I am free. God, I’m so In Love. Safe. Safe. Safe. I’m not holding my breath, but I should. Nice Boy leaves, for good. A month late. Near asphyxiated. It was not positive. He doesn’t care that I loved him. He never told me what went wrong. I know I was the Problem. I always am. I always am.

XII: cue Hometown Boy. Let me fuck my sorrows away. I’m under the influence nearly every day for 3 straight months. I am Empty and I am Blank. Only good for being used. It is better than nothing. I cannot let myself Feel. I cannot Fall again. I faltered. Hometown Boy sometimes looked at me like I meant something to him. Said things that made me wonder. Kissed me softly some days. I lost myself again. More hospital walls. One month behind them. Venture out into the world. Hometown Boy is married now. I didn’t know… He never said a thing. I was a Fool.

XIII: I am drunk. I am A Drunk. I am swallowing sadness by the bottle. Trying to find meaning. Trying to hold onto something. Trying to pretend I am something besides miserable. Let me feel. Let me feel. Let me self-destruct some more. I don’t want to exist. It hurts. All I know how to do is hurt and I don’t know why. I cannot get my act together. I cannot give up the only thing I know how to be. I don’t know how to be anything but Nothing.

XIV: I’m seeking something in all the wrong ways. I am drinking. I am smoking. I am in the woods. With Him. Danger Boy. Red hot, flashing light, warnings, NO NO NO, but I go anyway. I am fine. I am laughing. I am spinning. Oh my god my head, my body. Danger Boy is above me, lips touching me. I am Scared. What is happening? Everything is black. There is a Void. I am in Dad’s living room. I do not know how I got there. Mama walks through the door. She looks tired. Dad looks angry. I am scared. I look at the clock. How many hours can pass without memory? I have never blacked out like this, no. I am standing upright and suddenly I can See. I can’t bring myself to say that four letter word.

XV: I can say it now. It is a word that tastes like fear. Like 4:36 pm panic attacks in the sun. Like blood from a wound. Like smoke. I shake. I am a Watcher. I can never stop. Can never be vulnerable. Can never let my guard down. Can never be made a Fool again. Can’t drive certain streets without holding my breath. Can’t stop at hometown stoplights without waiting for the Grim Reaper. Trying to find hope. Trying to be Something. I cannot be Nothing. I was born to Live and that I must do. I cannot be held down. The world cannot drown me. I will prevail. I must. I can be Everything. I at least have to try.

—  THE TRAUMA OF LIVING- Michelle Bishop