Before you, I believed love was making love. Waiting only makes me love you more.
Do you ever dangle your toes over the precipice, dare the cliff to crumble, defy the frozen deity to suffer the sun, thaw feather and bone, take wing to fly you home?
Then I said it. He said it too. I love you. And everything that went before meant nothing.
She’s no longer afraid to die. What she’s afraid of is living, accepting the status quo.
Starving for a high, a place to hang out inside my own head. Starving for touch. Pain, even. A way to feel. I need to feel.
I nod, because I do understand. I’m just not sure how to go about divorcing myself from the evil I’ve already accepted.
It’s probably weird to think about an addiction like it’s a sentient being, but that’s how it feels. Like it’s something living inside you. Something you can’t get rid of because killing it means killing you.
It is hard to believe that something that seems so permanent was once so different. Change. I guess that really is one thing you can count on...
And how can it be he’s so in love with me? To grow up without love, and still have so much inside?
The truth is, I don’t have a real clue what love is – how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.
Except when it comes to Mom. She is, and always has been, the driving force in this family. And sometimes that means driving us head-on, no possible change of course, into a wall.
Yeah, I know getting high isn’t so smart. Ask me if I care.
When did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person who lives inside your skin?
Easier, sometimes, to gulp down giant spoonfuls of uncertainty than it is to swallow throat-clogging capsules of what really is.
When all else fails, dream bigger.
I was about six years old, still Daddy’s little girl, even though Daddy couldn’t care less about me. How could I expect any man every would?
God wasn’t love, couldn’t be love. Because for me, love was a corpse.
Something stirred beneath my skin, some being inside I’d only suspected existed, demon or angel, I couldn’t say.
In my limited realm of experience, beginnings led to endings.
But, though I was very much in lust with him, I knew from the start we were nothing like “forever.” Maybe because forever is such a scary place.