EmilyMiller
Lit’s Keyser Söze
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2022
- Posts
- 11,786
August 2023
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause she was never mine
Someone needed to have a talk with Taylor Swift. Maybe if she wrote less melancholy shit, the world might not follow her lead so readily. Maybe Madison would still be in my life...
But I knew that it wasn't that Pennsylvanian girl who was truly responsible. The real culprit was staring at me in the mirror. And I wasn't sure how much I liked her, or even knew her.
I was plagued by an ever rising feeling that I had broken something delicate and precious. I doubted that I could reassemble the pieces, so thorough had my demolition been. But I also knew I wanted to try, it began to feel like I wanted that more than anything. I wanted her, I wanted us. I wanted to try to make it work with Clara. I wanted to take back my overreaction. But I'd said those words, and I'd pushed her away. It was all on me.
I also recognized my new normal. How I had been since San Fran. Since... it. In a perverse way, things going wrong, even me making things go wrong, felt like the natural order reasserting itself. It felt more comfortable and less scary than the hope that things could be good; a hope that could be dashed, that almost certainly would be dashed. I didn't believe in happy endings anymore.
Video calls with my therapist kept me relatively sane, helped me function. But... I didn't feel like I was improving. I felt stuck. And it was also very simple, I missed Madison. Missed her terribly. Of course, I continued to message her, I'd tried so many times, but still with no reply. Could I really blame her?