I’m only ashamed for the parts of my life my mother refused to listen, not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t

I can’t hate her for the strength she didn’t have to hear how a daughter was ruined in her watch, while she was too busy tending for the parts my father never could

I can’t blame her for not being the mother I always wanted, when she had to fill in for the father that was hardly around

I’m mad at her for things she won’t even remember, but how could I be? When she was more than the mother I could’ve wished for, but also, so little of the mother I needed in many times

Big feelings for a little girl.

They said I was stupid, they said it can’t be love, said I was too young.

They said it would pass, said I would forget in time.

They were wrong. I never forgot.

They were wrong. It was love.

I never forgot the day he broke my heart, it broke me too. I had no clue what I’d done wrong. Thought love was supposed to be beautiful. Weren’t I supposed to believe him? How could I’ve known his words weren’t always true.

After all, I was just a little girl wasn’t I.

Since I’ve stopped writing, you can all assume I’ve stopped feeling things, finally.

If your girlfriend won’t do half the things that I do, guess I’m not your girlfriend at all.

Watching her as she gets off the floor, wipe her tears, smiles and gathers the courage to forgive the man who broke her into a million pieces after she had to assemble them off the floor.

Now you have no words because you can see she doesn’t have the strength to go on without him anymore. He had her webbed too deep in his manipulative mind where you have no reach. But you, you’ll be a good friend who puts on a great show because at the end of the day it’s her choices that will make her happy. 

She knows. She knows good and well. But she’s tired. She’s scared that if she lets go, she’d spend the rest of her nights sobbing into her pillow like she has every time before. Sometimes, even the strongest girls can breakdown and fall apart. This hits them harder because of everything they’ve been suppressing inside and you know this, and this is why you can’t ask her to love herself more. She doesn’t love herself and it shows in the many ways she lets him back into her life after all the times he’s shot her down. His excuses always so poor and she doesn’t even care. Her father loved her so poorly, this was the love she always knew she deserved. She’d have been a fool had she asked for more. 

But you see that don’t you? You see that she deserves the world. You tell her too, but she doesn’t listen. She never believed in herself, she never could. 

She loves him like she loves her highs. Like a pretty distraction, she could dive into. As long as it lasts, there are no withdrawals.

You know what makes it easier? not thinking about who he’s fucking when you’re not around. That makes it easier.

Not thinking about anything besides the moments you both share, that makes it easier. Getting rid of everything but the truth you know, makes it easier.

So, love him if you must. But don’t let your mind torture you with unfinished stories you only know bits of.

Be kind to you, because you have to live with you. 
Be kind to you, because you are all you have.
Be kind to you, because if you won’t, who else will.
Be kind to you, because you have to set your standards with you. 

Is it suicide if I knew it would kill me?

It’s not even about what I’m worth anymore. I’ve disappointed myself. It’s funny that I expected someone to see me beyond what I see myself as. But after investing myself in someone for the better part of last three years, I’m upset that it won’t be his jokes I’ll be laughing at for the rest of my life.

It’s true that you only remember the best of the times when you part. But I also remember everything else. The frustration and the tears, the unfairness. The how could this be and why would you do this to me too. And long after that when friends talk about him and tell me how casually he flirts with them a part of me is so glad I’m finally done while the other part of me cries herself to sleep because it kinda hurts.

I wasn’t even nearly perfect, but that being said if I ever would’ve changed myself entirely, it would have been for him. Because of how much I wanted to be with him. Things he’d asked me to change about the way I live made a certain sense to me, but I’m not the girl that makes sense. I’m the girl who’s complex, reckless and impulsive. My true essence lies in all of these and if you ask me to stop being all of that, what would become of me? Only a shell of what I am?

Stop Ana, just stop. It’s almost 6 am and here’s another reminder that you need to let go.

My mind is a backward spiral whenever I hear your name. It unravels. I can’t have it unravel again. I want to stay focused and remember why my heart decided what it did.