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brokenfragilethings

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it's been so long. it's been so long. truthfully, i don't know what i'm doing right now. i'm in shock, i feel broken, i feel used, i feel guilty. like i wasn't enough. or like i was too much.


it's been a long time since i was really here. i met somebody, i started to fall in love, i forgot what it felt like to need to write about the things that hurt because for a while, a lot of things didn't hurt so bad. some arguments, sure. some difficulty trusting, sure.


but it was so good. i have to remember that. i have to remember. i was so happy. i was so happy.


i met somebody, i started to fall in love, and for the first time in my life, i wasn't that scared. i wanted it to work so bad. i wanted to try, i wanted to try.


i confessed. she reciprocated. we dated for a year.


during this year, we starting planning. she was planning, too. how we'd move out together, get a little apartment, be. close. be close. be together. we were long distance, and it was hard. we started planning. i swear, i swear. it wasn't just me.


we dated for a year and seven days.


on the seventh day, she told me she wasn't in love with me anymore. i felt everything collapse. i felt everything die. the world became so still, so quiet. there was nothing but that. there was nothing but the realization that someone stopped loving you.


maybe it was too fast. too soon. but i just wanted to live with her. near her, even. be with her. yes, i wanted her to be my future. yes, i wanted to love her for the rest of my life. but i have always been patient. i didn't mind waiting.


but she said it was too fast. that she wasn't ready. not only that, that she wasn't in love with me anymore. she wasn't in love with me anymore.


i asked. i needed to know. and i am grateful she told me. i am so grateful for her honesty, even though i wish she would've told me sooner. before i met her mother, her sisters. i loved her sisters. all of her pets. everything, everything. i wish i could have known, i wish i could have somehow been able to ease this blow.


and that's not fair either, maybe, because. a part of me knew. you can tell, you know? when you love someone so much, their moods become a mirror. when you love someone so deeply, you know how they text. how they talk. you know how they laugh with you, and how it slows. you know how things change, because one day, one day they are still laughing. one day they are laughing and reaching for you.


you just know. you know when it stops. you feel it like dread. like fucking dread. so i have been feeling this for weeks, now. i have been sensing it for weeks. maybe even months. but i swear, i swear i thought it was something we could work through together. that she did still love me, and this was just a bad patch. that this was just a hard time. that, together, we could get through anything.


how do you fight for someone who doesn't love you anymore? it's not fair to them, either. they want to be let go. she doesn't want me anymore. this is something i have to respect.


but i am grieving, oh god, i am grieving. i have never felt so shattered before in my life, and i've been through some things. i don't know what to do with my hands. i don't know what to do.


we talked every day. when she loved me, we talked every day for years. good morning messages for three years. nearly four. we talked every single day, all day, for three years. what do i do now? what am i supposed to do now? it was supposed to be us. i wish she felt that way still. i wish she felt it was still us. but there is no more us for her. there's no more us.


i don't know how to wrap my head around that. i don't know how to take that. to stomach that. there is no more us. this girl that i put my whole heart into, that i planned my future with, is gone. she is just gone.


she offered friendship. told me she didn't want to lose me. i wonder if she's angry at me, if she thinks i don't care as much. if i loved her less, if i loved her any fucking less, maybe i could be her friend. that's why she can be mine, isn't it? she lost that love. but i love her so fucking much, it felt like coming home. like finally having a soft place. like finally having something to call my own. and i cannot, i cannot lose that and keep a piece. a fraction. if i do, i'll never stop loving her. if i stay her friend, she will be able to have me, but i won't be able to have her. i can't do that. i cannot do that. i hate myself, but even i have my limits. i can't put myself through something like that again.


i want to be a first choice. i want to be loved the way i love. i want to feel what it's like to have someone love you so deeply they'd do anything. they would do anything. i want to be loved so deeply someone would sit here and write about how they just wish i'd change my mind. how they just wish i would want to try again.


i want her to try again. i would take her back, if she would want me. i would do anything. i would do fucking anything if she would just. want me. please. please just want me.


it's been so long since i've been here. i guess i'd been so happy i forgot what it felt like to need to write.


i don't know if i can write right now. i don't know how to feel. i don't know if i can write poetry on this when the wound is so fresh. i lost her today. i lost her today.


i lost her today.


i am lost

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yikes!!!

1 min read

was trying to write a poem just now and all i have down is


'how can i reach her?'


and i keep like. trying to go from there i keep trying to add but all i'm doing is hurting like everything just aches i feel it in my teeth it rings in my jaw and tightens my fingers and i just. like. can't? you know? like it just hurts and i keep staring at that line and i don't have the answer


i don't have the answer


how can i reach her?


like please i am just trying to figure it out jhkdsfhdkjgjfdjkh

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well...

1 min read

just wrote a stream of consciousness poem for the first time in about a year

just wrote my first piece of lit of anything for the first time in about a year


it's a lot. it's not enough. i don't know what i'm feeling

it's been so long that i don't think these hands are mine.

i watched them type but i don't think they're mine.


i think i've forgotten how to do something i love. i don't know

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i'm back

1 min read
kind of a little bit maybe
i'm trying
i miss poetry and i'm trying


i hope everyone's been well!! i'm getting to some comments i missed, but sometimes i keep them for a bit and reread them, so forgive me !! but feel free to come chat, tell me about your day!!! if you're lonely. or if you're not. i'm here anyway.

❤️
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sometimes writing is so personal and draining and i don't want to do it anymore, but other times it's really all i have that keeps me floating. it makes me so tired it makes me SO tired all of the reliving, the rewording, the making something into something just as painful but a little more beautiful.

i find it weird that even one or two people like my work. i can't really grasp that people may actually click on my writing, seek it out. i'd been toying with the idea of a poetry zine but i can't find myself to believe people would want to ? read it ? and i don't mean that in a self depreciating way, i'm not saying it out of sadness. just like. genuine disbelief ? like. my writing is just. like i wish it was more polished and put together but i hATE revision and my poetry professor four years ago told me i'd never be a good writer if i just left everything at the first copy and i UNDERSTAND that, i get that,


but i don't know if i want to be a good writer, then, you know? i think i'm okay with not being a good writer, a great writer. all i want to do, all i write for, is to say what i say how i say it. and if i change it, it—hm. i don't quite know how to word this?? how i'm feeling?? like. if i change it, i know it's not that the FEELING leaves, exactly, because you can revise and revise and still have the same meaning, if you want to keep your content similar, but.

but it never stays the same thing you first wrote. and what about that piece, you know? that first original piece. where does it go? and maybe, like. maybe it has the backbone of it but it isn't. it's not what you wrote, in that moment, when you were dripping something sad and raw and real, and yes revisions could be JUST as painful, and !!! like !!! they may even be BETTER. I TOTALLY GET THAT and i totally understand why some people love revisions! they may be what you need. you might love revision, fixing the words you started with, using it to grow, to build. that's so valid and fine !!!


but for me, i just. it's not about being better or worse. i don't want to write something better. i just want to write IT, whatever it is. maybe i'm not meant to be a writer because i truly don't care about this 

this isn't good writing advice omg lmao this is TERRIBLE please revise your pieces as much as you want KSSAHJKDJHASKDHK i'm not a professor or a professional or anything lmao doNT listen to me i'm just. thinking out loud. i really just wanted to get this down bc it's been bugging me because lately i'm just sitting down trying to write something good instead of just writing. and i don't like that i just want to hurt on paper so i hurt less inside HHHHHHHH 
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i'm back by brokenfragilethings, journal

DON'T LISTEN TO THIS IT'S TERRIBLE WRITING ADVICE by brokenfragilethings, journal

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writing on tumblr oJo by brokenfragilethings, journal

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