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The water washes away the smell and grime, but my sins are here to stay.
damn girl
“Do you want me to unbutton them, love, or should I wait for you to get on your knees first?”
woah
“I don’t think you have a problem stuffing your face,” he says, “just not with food.”
STOPPPP
I don’t talk to Lo about feelings. About how it makes him feel to watch me bring home a different guy every night. And he doesn’t ask me how it feels to watch him drown into oblivion. He stifles his judgment and I withhold mine, but our silence draws tension between us, inescapable. It pulls so taut that sometimes I just want to scream. But I keep it inside. I hold back. Every comment that undercuts our addictions fractures the system in place. The one where we both live being free to do as we please. Me, bedding any guy. Him, drinking all of the time.
That's healthy...
“She doesn’t know how to say no. So I’m going to do it for her.” Thank you. But instead of actually saying anything, Lo flips him off.
period
His addiction scares me sometimes. Alcoholism can destroy livers and kidneys, and one day, he may not wake up from a night of bingeing. But how can I tell him to stop? How can I judge him when I am nowhere near ready to let go of my crutch? So for right now, this is the best I can do.
shh no its fine
With our new alliance, we lied for each other and hid our infidelities, playing the role of doting boyfriend and girlfriend. The deeper we sink, the harder it is to crawl out. I fear the moment where neither of us can breathe again—when someone discovers our secrets. At any moment, everything can crumble beneath us. The dangerous game both excites and terrifies me.
thats...so healthy...
should revel in the fact that I’m scaring him as much as he’s scaring me, but I can’t.
“Fine, it’s mine,” Lo said, losing the advantage. “Yeah?” his father sneered. Their shoes scuffled, and something slammed into the wall. “Don’t be so fucking ungrateful, Loren! You have everything.”
nope, not again, no thank you
taking pleasure in his aloneness. “There’s this girl who ran out of my apartment.” He pauses. “She looked like a bat out of hell. She barely combed her hair, not unusual for her”—he shrugs—“but she seemed pissed, and the only difference in our relationship had been this new blonde girl on a bar stool. So I dumped her, figured it may solve a problem or two.” He waits, tilting his head at me while I process what he just said. My chest swells. “Did it?” he asks. I should be the better person and say no, let him have a normal life with a beautiful blonde bombshell. But I’ve never been good at the
...more
mhmmm
“He put it in my palm, and he asked me how it felt to hold it. You know what I said?” He glances at me. “I told him that I was scared. He smacked me on the back of the head and said, ‘You’re holding a fucking gun. The only people who should be scared are the ones on the other end of it.’” He shakes his head. “…I don’t know why I just thought of that, but I keep remembering all of it. The way the gun felt heavy and cold in my hand, how I was so terrified of the trigger or of dropping it. And there he was…disappointed.”
uhm what?
“I should have just had sex with you.”
…
“I’m not one of your conquests,” he says in a throaty voice. “I know what you want, and you don’t need to take it. I can give it to you.”
Oop
“I want to love you more than I love this”—he waves his bottle—“and I don’t know how else to do it unless there’s something to lose.”
Okayyyyyy
“You could be doing dishes in the kitchen,” he whispers, his lips tickling my ear, “and I could come right up and....” His hand slides down my back and below my jeans, in between my thighs... I’m sold.
oh boy
Being called weird by Connor is like a unicorn calling a horse magical.
lollll
Sex is a part of everyone’s life, addicted or not. Drugs aren’t. Alcohol isn’t. You can spend years without both, but most people never become lifelong celibates. Every time I catch a girl tucking a baggy into her bra, eyes glazed and gone, I feel a pang of jealousy. Why can’t I have an addiction that people understand? It’s a vile thought—to wish for an addiction many die with. I’d rather have none at all, but for some reason, I never allow myself that option.
oop sorry for judging girl
No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible?
this is a hella unhealthy relationship
And I suppose, the fear of losing each other is always stronger than the pain we cause.
thats not healthy X5
“Because I can. Because when I was eleven-years-old and tasted my first drop of whiskey, I thought it’d bring me closer to my father. Because I felt empowered.” He touches his chest. “Because I never hit anyone. I never drove. I never lost a fucking job or lost any friends that mattered. Because whenever I drank, I didn’t think I was hurting anyone but me.”
oh...
“I love you, but I want to love you enough that I never choose alcohol over you. Not even for a moment. I want to be someone you deserve. Who helps you rather than enables you, and I can’t begin to do that until I get help for myself.”
yesss finally
If I was right in my own mind, maybe I would throw him off. Maybe I would tell him to stop. Maybe I’d do something that would benefit both of us instead of continuing our destructive cycle.
damn
“I’ll always be yours. No distance or time apart will change that, Lily. You need to believe that.”
awww
He knew the only way for me to truly fight is if I have something to lose.
oh damn
