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In a world short of love, I had to be wanted. I was wanted. I felt wanted. Never loved, no. But I was wanted.
Maybe I fell in love with the potential of people, not who they really were.
when you had nothing, the people you gave yourself to filled the void that was left stripped and barren.
mended the broken pieces of myself.
But broken pieces always remained, especially when they sat right underneath your skin. It looked like flesh, felt like flesh. Shards became soft. Glass became smooth. Pain became happiness. Happiness became pain. Pain became comfort, and that comfort was bliss.
Where you are bold and impulsive, you’re also the kindest, most generous girl I’ve ever met. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You value love over everything, even in the absence of it.”
“You’ve lost a lot. You downplay your pain. You act like it doesn’t exist, that it isn’t a part of you, when it became you.”
One word that no one had ever said to me in my entire life. A word I craved to hear. A word that did not exist to my ears. “Mine.”
Men loved innocent girls. It was a weird thing they enjoyed. Like, this goal of taking someone’s virginity was the ultimate trophy, and if you had been touched you were some fucking harlot.
“White male privilege and power is still being pressed upon women, depicting them as incapable and unworthy due to the colour of their skin. Because of this, women have a hard time coming into their identity in fear of being judged.”
Scott took his eyes off the screen for a split second to address me. Little did he know that meant the whole world and more.
Why didn’t he come? Why didn’t he like me? Was I that horrible? Was I that unlovable that someone could never see the good parts of myself?
I just want you to know you deserve better than what you’re putting yourself through.”
I was to blame. I let people take advantage of me.
“Good enough to fuck,” I stated. “Not good enough to love,” I accepted.
In a way, I wanted to keep them concealed. The scars beneath the black ink were no longer a part of me – I assigned them a new meaning.
She was my match. An equal. A broken piece of myself, a mirrored shard of glass.
It bothered me often enough. Never once did I address it, though. Addressing it made it real and I would’ve preferred to live in blind ignorance, but a part of me felt the need to snap.
But over time, I learned to be everything that everyone wanted. I learned to match the energy of others, to morph into whatever they liked and remained that way until I didn’t need to anymore.
“It’s never the people I want in my life that come around. I feel like I’m waiting for someone to understand me, and no one ever does.”
No one had ever paid attention to me before. Not like this. Not ever. “Jace –” “I understand you,” he whispered. “I understand you.”
I rarely let people in. Nothing good ever came from it, nothing good ever will.
She loved all the pieces of myself that I hid from the world. She loved me when I didn’t think it was possible. She never made me question if I was worthy of it, because to her, loving me came as easy as breathing.
“Love yourself more.”
I realized after I stopped self-harming that directing my pain to the parts of my body that did nothing wrong was fucked. Why would I damage my beautiful skin when my heart was already bristled and stone? One ugly thing was enough.
After Kyle had violated me, I got a heart tattoo to remind myself that I still had one.
I listened to all the stories she told me, about how he threw her anniversary gift (a gold watch) at her face, how he cheated numerous times that she gave up counting and turned people against her. “It blows my mind how some guys can do that to the girl they’re with, the girl they say they love.” I was angry, hurt for her. Blu didn’t deserve that. No one did.
The fiery girl I’d met over two months ago, was scared. She was frightened to allow people in. She didn’t want anyone to get to know her because she thought they’d leave.
Wherever his eyes would lead me, storm or shore, I’d follow.
You could be the greatest person, perform the grandest gestures, but if that someone never valued the love you showed them in the first place, they never would.
A smile spread across my face. “Something that belongs to me.” Her cheeks heated and I wasted no time to repeat, “Dance with me.” “And what if I say no?” This. This is what I loved about her. The push and pull. She took it and gave it. Fire. That fucking fire.
“They’re underneath my tattoos. The memories of wanting to feel something other than sorrow.”
My body trembled. My mind ached. My flesh, the skin I wore, was covered in markings that represented me. A broken shell. A damaged past. Unlovable, reckless,
Any ounce of love within me died, but it was justified. How could anyone love a fractured soul? A sad girl who couldn’t control the carnage of emotions that lived within her?
It felt surreal, seeing life through a different lens; coffee shops became romantic, public parks felt magical, tiny neighbourhoods carried more mystery than I could ever fathom. All because I started to love life again.
“You stayed and you toughed it out for pieces of shit who never deserved you, broke you and you stayed because a part of you wants to feel like you did something right. That you made something work. That you tried. Because if nothing redeemable came out of your commitment, then you burned for nothing.
I cried, letting myself cry, knowing that crying was a solution and not a sign of weakness. I’d been weak for too long. I’d never move forward if I stayed stuck in the past.
In one breath, he shattered my soul. “You let me.”
Hope. The thing that killed me. The thing that cost me everything.
By begging for a man who couldn’t be what I needed, I devalued my worth, my self-respect.
“You don’t understand how hard I fought for you to see me as someone other than any of the prospects who threw themselves in your direction. I wanted to be the one you fell for, but instead I fell for you.”
“I fell for you,” I repeated, though he seemed to look through me. “And I kept falling and you wouldn’t even lend a hand. You couldn’t handle
So I yelled and I thought of everything, everyone who was better than me – everyone I disappointed – everyone who disappointed me.
I remember saying, “I could watch this all day.” The rain always calmed me.
was a peaceful thing. The feeling of not feeling. Knowing that the person beside you loved you, flaws and all. I never had to try and pretend to be lovable, not with them – I just was.
Anything is a sign if you look hard enough. I couldn’t do that to myself anymore. My heart’s had enough.
mind. And that kindness brought me to this moment here. The now. Sitting across Dr. Hemline, spilling all my life secrets to a random stranger because I wanted to heal. I wanted to be kind. I wanted to be the person someone met on a solo trip and never forgot about. In order to do that, I had to do this. For my sanity. For my self-discovery.
“Because if you touch me, I’ll be okay. I’ll know you’re still in there – that…” He turned to me, his eyes bloodshot and glazed, “That one year later, you still have love for me.”
I loved him viciously, my entire being stripped raw by his essence. I would’ve done anything for him; he knew that. He took advantage of that.
Numbness was kind to me, and paralyzing. So very paralyzing.
