Indiscretions remind me to miss you. At least you were real. At least you gave me more than I’ve ever gotten.

If I’ve learned anything about dating and relationships, it’s that everything is always great until it’s not anymore. On the day that consistency finds me, I’ll change my tune. And when someone acts like they want to be taken seriously; I will do just that.

It’s crazy how fast all the things you found endearing become annoying once he shows you his true colors.

Why can’t I take the best of each and wrap them up into a neat little package, tied with a bow? Ideal circumstances, no curveballs. I am a control freak perfectionist. I am a spoiled, petulant little girl, and nothing is ever enough. My pride and my insatiability will ultimately be my downfall. Maybe not today.. but some day.

If wanting to be fucked well on a regular basis makes me thirsty; then so be it.

I’ve already forgiven the universe for getting it wrong for a minute there. I don’t know if we ever would have been into one another as much as we were into the idea of one another. I don’t know if there would have been such fire between us if both of our heads weren’t in such rampant disarray. Worst of all, I still don’t know if I meant a thing. But I do know that our wires got crossed. I know that it was too fast, too intense, and I wanted it too badly for all the wrong reasons. I know that it still reduces me to tears if I think about it too hard, and I know that I would have completely lost my ability to do anything but try to make you happy, had you let me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for not letting me. We somehow managed to catapult off of one another and into an infinitely better place without quite letting go of each other’s hands. This is how it should be, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

I hate how well you get me.

Sometimes I just need to listen to Jack’s Mannequin in abundance just to remind myself that I’m here, and I’m okay, and I’m alive, and I got this.

I’m falling for you, like a steady faucet drip. But who cares, really? In the next three weeks, it’ll only intensify. Full blast. I’ll probably be yours entirely by the time you board that plane. But what does it matter?

I’m fully aware of the fact that I’m not your soulmate. But maybe if you stop worrying about that, we could enjoy each other’s company.

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Maybe it’s real when it’s comfortable and honest and easy.
Maybe it’s comfortable and honest and easy because you’re leaving.
Or maybe I just still don’t know what real is because I’ve yet to encounter it.

Thank you for helping me end my birthday on such an amazing note. You’ll never really understand how much it means. This feels more honest than ever before. I can’t stand the fact that you have to leave.

I have such a problem with the idea of assorted people being allowed to hold onto remnants of me. I don’t want pieces of me scattered about and left behind. And it makes me not want to give anything to anyone, ever. Stop holding onto what you’re undeserving of.

I think I’m starting to believe a little less in the idea of monogamy with each passing day, and it’s really fucking sad.

I’m sure that one day, another person who makes me feel otherwise will come into my life, but I don’t think it’s going to be any time soon.

You can’t expect things like trust, loyalty, honesty, time, and effort from someone if you’re not going to give the same back to them. Why isn’t that a given?

Dating is chaos. And far as I can tell, not a single one of us can get it together.