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To everyone who has been forced into boxes they’ve had to fight their way out of.
That’s exactly what I’m trying to fight against by being here. The way my mind slips into the default beliefs I was forced to absorb.
“Because you like this, don’t you? Even though you shouldn’t. Even though you have a fucking boyfriend. It’s my hands you’ve wanted on your body all night. Tell me I’m right, Aura.”
“That’s mine, Aura. Everything you’re feeling right now, every spark of fire that’s licking against your skin. Every moan you make, that orgasm that’s cresting inside of you. It’s all mine, don’t fucking forget that I’m the one who’s making you feel this.”
“I’ll let Aura take care of those when she dumps your ass and moves in with me.”
“When I fuck your girlfriend—because I will fuck Aura…”
“You won’t be anywhere near her. Fuck off, ass wipe.”
I slip behind this mask of indifference so that I don't have to feel anything.
“Fuck, we aren’t friends. Okay? We aren’t fucking friends, now please. Let me come.”
"Maybe. You both know how badly I want to step out and try new things. Yeah, perhaps I don't always do it. But I would have rather known the truth than be lied to."
Maybe the things I've done aren't perfect, or wholesome, or good. But I'm okay with that, because I believe we all deserve a little bad. A little darkness and corruption to remind us that living life is so much more than falling in line with the person behind you. Experiencing life is greater than listening and agreeing to all of the deafening noise that constantly buzzes in our ears.
The fucking expectations. The prejudices, the preconceived idea that if you don't fit in with the societal mold—you'll fail. Fuck that and fuck every organized belief that has convinced us of that notion.
Complacency should never be the standard. I refuse to settle on mediocrity.
I think once you find that person, you work your ass off to keep them. Even if it's dangerous. Even if it's wrong. Even if we don't make it through this.
That's what hurts. Thinking you have a connection with someone—even platonically—that doesn't really exist.
Always fighting for each other. Even in fear. Even in chaos. Always each other.
She makes me realize that I've never been a wildflower. I've never been fragile or weak. I’m not a victim.
I know we're so far from the nightmare being over, but if we're together, we can destroy it all.
“You are so easily played, so easily manipulated. Bethie and I walked into your life and inserted ourselves without one fucking problem. Because you’re so goddamn desperate for attention and love, quickly submitting to whoever will give it to you.”
Because at the end of all of this, I don’t want to be the one who rolled over out of fear of someone else.
