I once read somewhere “it’s better to be slapped by the truth than kissed with a lie” and it has always stuck.
For a while I wanted to make love with lies than to be punched in the stomach with the truth.
But now? I want to be kicked, scratch, and punched with the truth. I want the truth to make me bloody.
The truth should rip people insides apart.
And the truth right now is that you were so scared of being hurt, you hurt the one who really loved you.
And the truth right now is that I’m the one who held on to this pain because it was the easiest self harm I could manage.
And the truth right now is that you aren’t as shitty as you think you are.
And the truth right now is that you’re still pretty shitty.
And the truth right now is that I’m going through withdrawal symptoms without talking to you.
But the truth right now is that I’m trying to beat this addiction now
But God do I miss you.
I thought I needed you like a drug but that was one of those soft lies because drugs are poison and they kill.
I don’t need you.