I fucking miss my old trashy self. Not that I regret you, my dear son. I love you and you are the only good thing that happened in this bad, bad, veerrry bad (raaawrrr) love affair. It’s just that, I miss the things I used to do. I miss skating, I really fucking miss it. I miss my good old pale pilsen, i miss the beauty and the chaos of being under the influence of…stuff, i miss the moshpits, noisy pubs and crowded gigs, i miss the taste of nicotine on my lips and the yellow stain in between my fingers. And its weird that I actually DO miss home. I miss my dog. I miss my mom. Hmm.

Funny how you can afford to hold your chin up that high, young man. The reason why we never dealt with you is that you never really existed in our world. In short, we don’t give a fuck about you. You just stepped in from nowhere, took her away, and wore her like one of your shiny blings. I always tell her to keep on doing what makes her really happy. And as long as it feels right, she’s on the right track. Maybe now, you’re wondering why is it such a big deal for us. Why we can’t just let it go and let you do what you want. Well, that is almost three years of quality friendship right there. And now she can just type away without any hesitations and scream “Cheers to crappy friendship”…I guess YOUR kind of friendship is way deeper than any of us can offer then, right? So go ahead, take her to places and burn cities with her and in the end we’ll see. Oh, and tell her this is gonna be the last time she’s gonna hear “filth” from my mouth. Thank you and see you around.

Dear L,

I miss you. I miss us. I was thinking about you last night and I was wishing that you’d knock on the door at 4am in the morning and walk in with a bouquet of my favorite Reese’s. I wish you’re not a thousand miles away from me. I wish I could invite you over at my place every night and we’d leech on my parent’s wi-fi til dawn just watching stupid YouTube videos of stupid people all over the world. Or we could just go somewhere quiet, we’ll bring our favorite books, my overly damaged iPod and maybe a small speaker and we’ll just waste time tripping on MY music (cause yours is too weird for an afternoon date). I wish we don’t love through pixels and kilobytes anymore, I wish we don’t have to have a nice internet connection just so we could see and appreciate every flaw in each other’s faces, hear even the softest whispers we make — things were not sure we want to say, but we’ll say anyway, hoping it won’t be heard. I wish you’re here here. I’m tired of always giving away permanent feelings to people who won’t stay with me through his and los. I’m tired of putting your face in every guy I go out with just so I’d feel a bit “happy”… I need you close, close, close to me. The closest you can, please. Til I suffocate with your scent and sweat through your glands. That kind of close. 

Love, A

It sucks when you wake up at 4am and you’re in a different house — not your mom’s laundry soap-scented pillows and sheets, not your own handwriting and doodles on the walls, no not your books, and not your clothes. You turn to your left and you see that familiar face, oh yeah i have been waking up to this face for a while now. Yes, his arms are there wrapped so tight around you, but you don’t feel how you should feel. Actually, you don’t feel a thing. You just question yourself, why are you here? And you think about all the possible reasons why you’re there beside him —maybe he likes me, no maybe he loves me. Or not. Maybe cause he says I’m the warmest embrace ever. Or maybe cause of my boobs, or am I sweet and irresistible? — But you always end up with oh yeah cause I’m the easiest fuck in this hood. Then you go back to bed, pull him closer, and you feel your heartbeats close together and convince yourself to go back to sleep so you’d forget about everything and think about it all over again tomorrow at 4am.

Not getting the best right now. Badly shaped. Not doing the best right now. What they say. Not feeling the best right now. Not at the top right now. Not feeling good about spending time with someone else just so I’d forget about the emptiness you make me feel when I’m home and were not talking. Its unfair. But its the only thing I could do, hold him like how I want to hold you. You’re farther than ever, but I’m optimistic.

Sorry for acting like this, I’m just scared. But I’ll stop now. Goodnight, stranger. Thanks for dropping by.