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20.11.08
for the first time EVER
for the first time ever i've wanted to tell you all the shit i've done, all the nasty, bad, horrible, natural, normal things i've done to you when all the while i played the most innocent, the most strong-willed, the most stoic little girlfriend who lived far away and never did a thing wrong.
well, it was kind of a lie.
for the first time ever i've wanted to tell you how i've slept with other people since we broke up. i wanted to tell you all the shit i ever did, i want to tell you all this stuff so you can hate me as much as i hate you and you can we can forget about each other in little clouds of bad residual tastes-in-our-mouths. yeah, fuck fuck fuck, i slept with someone else that time we "broke up" for a few months. no, fuck that, i was someone's girlfriend, he loved me, we did everything together in those two months, and you even got mad when you thought i'd just kissed him. after that, i had the worst sex ever with another guy who i kissed before, fuck, before time even started it feels like. i kissed, i slept - i mean really slept so tenderly, so close, so comfortably and peacefully - with one of my friends, one of your friends. we'd been to his house together. we had sex a few months before the end. it was awkward, it was so cathartic.i mean, god, before that i wanted something, ANYTHING so badly that i had nearly had it with you, but after him i thought "no, this is NOT what i want, i want you." hahahaaaaaaaaaaa. find THAT funny. right?
fuck.
i thought about all this all yesterday, all last night, all this morning when i was in the shower, washing, shaving my pubic hair into a neat strip ready for getting laid when maybe it should have been a heart, an arrow, his initials, your initials, a fucking jolly roger and the words "abandon hope, all ye who enter here", for you are getting to get used in ammunition in a silent tirade, as fodder for an attack on someone who doesn't even know what fucking hit them.
aw yeah. that's right - this is what i do now. i'm a fucking slag a fucking slut fucking low-cut topped and short skirted scum of the fucking earth. and i do miss you. your camaraderie, your sex.
but to know that you can dive just straight into another girl...i mean, when did you really stop giving a fuck? it must have been a l-o-n-g time ago because, shit, i've found someone to sleep with but i haven't found someone to match me. i wasn't even looking and i don't think there even is another half another zig to fit my zag anywhere. i'm just too much. i'm just so ALL OF THAT that i don't even think he exists. it certainly wasn't you - we were just well practised. but you, you have a little foreign arty girlfirend to match your foreign arty tendencies.
you know, it's funny. i can't even imagine you treating anyone as bad as you treated me when we started out. you were such a thoughtless cunt. i can't even imagine you doing it to anyone. maybe i was just a little practise run. i think all the time you thought it wasn't serious, even when it was, because of the distance. i hope it's all fine, i hope you are yin and yang bread and butter fucking ink and paper just so, just so when you have your unintelligent little children, they'll hate their dad as much as you hate yours, and they'll fuck their mum up just as much as you fucked yours.
that's my poison, that's my fucking vitriol. it feels good, don't it? it feels almost as good as making out with someone in my car for hours just because i can. it almost feels as good as having people tell me thats the best blow job ive ever had, that's the first time in my life, yada yada yada. it almost feels as good as when he touches me in just the right place on my ribs, on my neck and it makes my body scream. it almost feelsas good as all times i thought we were good together, all the times it worked so well, we got on so perfectly, all the times we turned each other on.
almost.
this is my lament, this is my epitaph, ain't it sad? it's almost as sad what actually happened. it's almost as sad as the end, where nothing really happened, it just fell apart through realisation and aching pains. it's almost as sad as while i've been writing this to hurt you, to fell you, the fact is you probably did it all first. you lied, you cheated, you fucked you kissed you joked. i know you did, i just know it as sharply as the juice from an apple, the way the peel is so crisp it sometimes cuts your gums and leaves little blooms of blood on the nearly-white flesh. i know it that clearly and yet, i still want you to know, still want you to cry and to give a fuck.
but you don't, and that's really the crux of the matter. you just fucking don't.
whispered by killa b at 11:51 AM |
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