sometimes i still cry

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Jongin for Esquire Korea 2017 Feb issue

i’m cute but psycho, she says. she smiles at me.

in my backpack are sixteen emergency items for panic attacks, for shutdown mode, for in case i can’t stop urges i can’t control, in case i am in trouble. i have under my bed razors i can’t bring myself to throw out, even though i’ve been recovered for ages. i forget what i said to him after i say it. i don’t mean any of it, but maybe i did. am i steering this ship or am i just a passenger on it.

i put the hot in psychotic, she says. i hear her laughing.

i can’t feel my lips. back when the hallucinations were bad i didn’t tell anyone but him, because i knew what was happening. when i woke up in a hospital i tried to kill the doctor. my therapy group was full of wonderful people. the girl who was schizophrenic had a beautiful singing voice. i can still hear her crying sometimes.

normal people scare me, he says. i know it’s from tv.

we faltered on the edge of bad things. when he tried to burn his house down he didn’t know what he was doing. he’s being charged as an adult, they tell me. when he saw me looking he said it was his responsibility. the girl with split personalities is sweet. her trauma rendered her largely unable to speak. i sit outside with the other three who raid our own bodies and we pluck flowers and play a game: what if i’d been born normal. what if i had been given executive functions. what if i hadn’t been given depression in bucketfuls until it overcame my lungs. my parents don’t know how to look at me anymore and neither do my friends. they all tiptoe around me like i will break at any second.

try yoga. it’s just a phase. we all feel that way. you have so much to be thankful for. someone has it worse. mentally ill people are dangerous. therapists aren’t real doctors and by extension you have no real problems. go for a run. just choose happiness. you’re not really sick. you’re faking it.

i lace my shoes. it’s nice to have laces back. i will try to work out without letting myself get back into my disorder, but we all know how well that will go. i have been working out since i was six years old. yoga is on my schedule but it’s never active enough. there’s a good chance that out of the people in my group, one of them is being taken advantage of. we are so quick to give ourselves out for the safety of others. the boy who, like me, has burn scars on his skin - he tells me his girlfriend likes that he’s sick. it makes him sensitive. the girl who is schizophrenic gets picked up by her father. i know he hits her. she says she kind of deserves it.

sadness makes for good art, she says. i don’t look up.

when they ask me where i’ve been i say i’ve been out of town. i feel fine thanks for asking. i don’t know who i am when nobody’s looking. i don’t know if i’m even real anymore. i don’t know how to get close to people because they’ll end up finding out and hating me for it, or i’ll be a burden, or they won’t know how to handle it. my family never brings up the hospital again. sometimes i think i dreamed it. 

you won’t find love until you love yourself, he warns. it’s been a long day.

i’m so alone.

RIP Kahaley-Khaz Modan (US) - She was a wonderful person and friendly companion to spend time with. I raided with her in Warlords and partly into Legion and she finally succumbed to a brave, many-years-long battle with cancer.

I still cry sometimes because it’s so weird thinking that someone you interacted with on a nearly daily basis is now gone. Cherish your friends and hold them close. We love you Kahaley, and we will miss you. Rest easy.

i don’t know how to erase hurt. sometimes i still cry about him when i didn’t cry at his funeral. nobody really cares how you cope with things as long as you cope quickly, a silent rehashing of your life in the sudden void. stuff goes missing in the wake of it. like something has to fill up all that sucking emptiness. the pit of no end. you throw in your emotions or food or showers or everything. and people ask you why you don’t just get over it. there’s always somebody better at getting over it, and sometimes it’s you. sometimes you’re at work the next day even though no one expected that from you; only to miss a solid week seven months in the future. how do you explain that. sorry i just kind of put it in a box and the box finally leaked. sorry it just got out on me. i know it’s silly. i know it’s silly.

I pray that you don’t realise what a huge mistake you’ve made and come back to me because you’re not good for me, you’re toxic and I know that. Well, my brain does at least, my heart is still trying to accept it.

I know if I let you in again you would ruin me, just like you did last time and I honestly don’t know if I could go through all the pain and hurt you caused me again and end up okay because it’s been months and I’m still recovering from what you done to me and I still cry about you sometimes but day by day I’m getting stronger, it’s taken me a long time to accept that you didn’t really love me, you just didn’t want to be alone so please don’t try to come back into my life when we both know that you’ll just leave again when someone better comes along.

—  I’m terrified because if you knocked on my door I know I wouldn’t have the strength to turn you away.
Maybe I do still think about you a hundred times a day. Maybe I do still think of you when I do certain things, like wear my hair that way you loved or listen to a song you showed me. Maybe I do still cry sometimes, pieces of my heart rolling down my cheeks as fast as rivers. Maybe I do still feel that last kiss on my lips some days. Maybe I do still say your name a little sweeter than his. Maybe I am still struggling to let go. But at the end of even my very worst days, days when I saw memories of you everywhere I went, only heard your name in every story someone told, I’m still a little less broken than when you left me. I can breathe. I can laugh. I can get out of bed, put on my makeup, and make it through the day without crying all of it off. I can feel the cracks you left healing, feel my mind pushing you out a little more every day. I know I will wake up one day, maybe in a month, maybe in 10 years, but one day I will wake up next to someone who loves me just as much as I love them. Someone who will recognize that when I love, I love with everything in me. I don’t believe in holding back. I will give him everything, and he’ll love the good, and he’ll love that I’m honest about the bad. He’ll spend his whole life loving that I talk so much, and that my laugh echoes off the walls. He’ll spend his whole life loving that I’m clingy because he knows that texting him every 20 minutes when we’re apart is my way of saying that he’s the most important person in my phone. He’ll spend his whole life loving my big eyes and watching the colors change. He’ll spend his whole life loving my arms around him, and my late night “I love you"s, and my random bursts of goofy that he’ll never understand but he’ll love that it keeps him on his toes. He’ll spend his whole life loving all the things you did, but he’ll love them enough to know that someone like me can’t be replaced, and he’ll know better than to let me feel unloved. He’ll spend his whole life loving all of me. And on that day that I wake up next to him, I won’t remember the boy who took my love for granted when I was 17. But trust me, you’ll remember me. A small piece of you will always remember me.
—  I’m irreplaceable, you’re a dime a dozen
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“I’ve just been, uh…thinking…a lot lately.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know…everything. Can I tell you something?”
“Shoot.”
“I like guys, and I like girls. Pretty much anyone in between. That’s probably not news to you. But you wanna know how I first found that out?”
“I dunno, do I?”
“It was my parents’ fault. Well…mostly my dad’s. He was always too hard on me. They sent me to bootcamp when I was 13. To discipline the bad out of me. My first kiss was with a boy there…Charlie. He was the only thing that made that place tolerable…he made it worse, too, though. Not him, but…the bullying, getting beat up for it…getting called every possible slur, every dehumanizing thing you can imagine. I called home most nights crying…cried myself to sleep. Always crying.”
“Santi…”
“Sometimes I still think that was the worst time in my life…but then…”
“What?”
“Hey, uh…where’s Fiona? Is she here?”
“No, she spends the weekends at my mother’s…why?”
“You wanna take a drive? Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere.”

“I thought about you tonight
Haven’t done that in a while
I realized I missed your taste
Your touch, your sound, your smile

Your eyes feel like coming home
I’ve spent so long living alone
I crave the way you fit in my arms
I’ve all but forgotten your smell

I’m reaching but I’m weak
I’m kneeling but I’m strong
I miss the the way you looked at me
Before it all went wrong

I’ll blame myself
I’ll blame you too
We’re both at fault for this one

We rushed to fast
We flew too far
We shot it before it had begun

I don’t cry when your on my mind
At least not the way I used to
But I still cry sometimes
When I’m in the mood

Would you love me the way I am?
The person I’ve become?
Smoking, drinking, can’t stop thinking
I’m really quite the mess

You crossed my mind at 1 am
Sat on a couch that isn’t mine
Drunk and high and choked back sin
But shit, I didn’t die

—  “Crossed My Mind” -N. Mason

I do not have a résumé that is worth being read by any potential employer. The neighbor girls ask to know where my dead dog is buried in the backyard. They want to dig her up and see her again. My brother’s girlfriend makes a Facebook post about how sweet he was to clean her house for her. I stare at the pubic hair littering the toilet that we share and think about telling her how he fucked our 50 year old neighbor in the back of a car three weeks ago. I refrain. Probably best to keep that one in my pocket for another day. I think about abuse. I think about abuse that doesn’t leave any marks. I think about raising a child that isn’t mine. I think about the day I left college and sometimes I still cry. It’s been 3 years. I wonder what my thesis project would have been. I am a mother but I’ve never given birth. I do not relate to any of my friends. I hope that they leave me alone. I am tired of trying. I built a kickass Lego house for my nephew today but I do not have a résumé that is worth being read by any potential employer.

anonymous asked:

hey, this is not on the valentine's ask thing but i wanted to know if you have a favorite valentine's card?

my best friend gave this to me four years ago:

i still cry sometimes

I another dimension we are still together cause things went differently. It doesn’t hurt as much and years passed but I still cry sometimes

I still cry over my ex sometimes.

And I put myself down for it tbh. I still think about him everyday. I put myself down for that too. I just really miss & love him. I put myself down for that too. I hate how I cry and miss him and love him and he can just go on being a dick not givin af about me. But I’m accepting what is. I accept that he has is own life and issues he has to grow from. I accept that he doesn’t love me or want to be with me. I accept that this is a time for mental, emotional, and spiritual growth. This is a time to let go of people God doesn’t see at the finish line with me. It all hurts. But this is my healing process.

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OK everyone was drawing their FEH teams and I felT LEFT OUT so I drew my BEAUTIFUL BOYS!!!! I’M SURROUNDED BY BLESSINGS!!!!!! AND I’M SO!!!! THANKFUL!!!!

HAPPY FAMILY. 

I like the black/white/red theme of the Akashi page!!! Cool! 

[From Animedia]

Q: What do you think about the Kouhai-Senpai relationship of Akashi and Nijimura, who appears for the first time in the Teikou arc?
Since he is his senpai, I think there were obviously some concern and respect. I think that when Nijimura was still there, Akashi had his own set/version of behavior/demeanor towards him within the team. However, when Nijimura withdrew his captaincy and gave the seat to Akashi, he himself acquired a set of responsibilities. I think that he began to be more aware of his position as a “kouhai but also a captain”. I cannot tell you exactly how Akashi thought of Nijimura, but he does vocalize words of concern for Nijimura so I do think that (Akashi) did have a proper sense of their relationship as senpai and kouhai.

Keep reading

I think he’d feel bad if he saw everything I’ve gone through. Like the first five days where I couldn’t eat or sleep and pushed everyone away. Or if he saw everytime I start to get happy. I cut it quick because of him. Or if he knew I still cry over him. Sometimes I wonder if he ever regrets it. I feel like he does. I mean he was horrible to me and I still regret being the one who broke up with him. I was good to him. At least I thought. Maybe I wasn’t and that’s why it was so easy for him to just drop me. I don’t know but I wonder how much I cross his mind, or if I even do at all. Sometimes I just want to chat or text or call him and just see how he’s doing and if he’s still pursuing all the dreams he wanted. He would always think he couldn’t manage them, but I tried really hard, and he started to believe in himself more and I just want to know all that. And like how is his animals and if ever feels bad for hurting me or does he think he didn’t
do anything.
—  Journal entry
But it still hurts to think about you.
—  J.M.M

I want you to know that I am most definitely over you. I am so over us. I go about my day without you and I am completely fine. Always.

Except…sometimes.

Because sometimes I’m sitting with my friends at lunch, and there is no reason to think of you, but I do. Sometimes I accidentally mention your name in our conversations.

Sometimes I still look at our old videos on my laptop. Sometimes I miss dancing with you in the kitchen to our favorite songs.

Sometimes I remember how it felt when you first told me you loved me. Sometimes it still takes my breath away.

Sometimes I pull out our memory box. Sometimes I reread the letters you wrote me. Sometimes I still look through all of our pictures.

Sometimes I still cry.

Sometimes I still write about you.

Sometimes I still care.

Sometimes I still love you.

Sometimes is most times.

Most times is always.

—  excerpt from an unfinished book #57 // When I said I didn’t miss you anymore I meant I did more than ever
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But I got this far, didn’t I? They thought I’d die in the attempt, but I’m here…

kritisk asked: the most attractive