You can try. You can try but you can never keep me down.
Regrets. I have so many. Blame. There’s too much of that. I always say it doesn’t matter anymore, but it does. It hurts. Yes, it still does. I like to tell myself I will grow past you, but really, it’s just more of my infamous bravado. In reality I’m not brave at all. I’m just afraid all the time.
Would I go whoring again? I don’t know. I think about it these days, now that the scent of you has dissipated and I long once more for a connection. Any connection, even if I had to pay for it. Any connection, even if it is to be short lived, and I know I will feel worse after. Do you get that I am that desperate now? Do you get the depths of my pain?... of this aching inside of me? Do you get that I can’t even think long term, but can only focus on seeking relief for this intolerable grief?
I guess I get short sighted when I’m in pain. Nothing else matters. I just want the pain to stop.