Sometimes I grow so tired speaking my emotions to you. I open my mouth and dust spills out instead of feelings.
But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.
That’s why I’m sorry. I’m sorry because you shouldn’t have to be everything to me. I had you, but I’d forgotten that I had myself too. It’s a new feeling, something I’m getting used to.
"but women have sex organs on their chests! I don’t walk around with my pants off!"
I think what you mean to say is “women have secondary sex characteristics on their chests”, not sex organs
in which case let me remind you that your facial hair and enlarged adam’s apple are also secondary sex characteristics
if secondary sex characteristics bother you and you feel they should be covered up in public, please feel free to shove your entire head in a bag at any time
My pain was never beautiful or poetic. It was answering the phone mid breakdown and laughing like I was fine.
You looked like heaven
but tasted like destruction
and broke me open.