badtexter
I stopped believing in love when I was 11 years old. At the same time that I first saw my fathers hand go across my mothers face reality did the same to me and I realized none of it was real. I once read a story about a man who loved a blind woman so dearly that he gave one of his own eyes so that she could see. Once the woman could see, she left this man because he was ugly. I keep telling myself that maybe one day I will believe in love yet again. It is because of this that I have ripped myself open to so many people and now there is nothing left. I am completely empty. I have given entirely too much of myself to boys who only touched my body because their body was intoxicated with the thought of fucking my brains out. No one will ever fill me. Here I stand, with gashes leaving every part of me completely open. No matter how many human beings come by and pour themselves into me it will pour right back out. So ask me again why don’t I believe in love. I don’t believe in love because love is not calling you at 3am begging for you to fuck me just because I need to feel something. Love is not my fathers hand across my mothers face. Love is not giving your eye to a charming blind woman and being left because you are undesirable. Love does not exist, people only let themselves believe that because they are entirely lonesome and need to feel the fire of another’s fingertips burning against their skin. Love is none of these things, because love does not exist.
I realize that I am bitter, and I plan on keeping it that way (via afwul)