I walked past a Dunkin’ Donuts today and I realized something. I miss glazed donuts. Holy shit, you never want something more than when you can’t have it.

Big booty bitches, JUST LET ME LOVE YOU!

I just want a blowjob. Bitches be trippin’.

Women. Half the time I wanna stab you all.The remaining half of the time I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

Thanksgiving means time around my family. Thanksgiving means pretending we are a normal functioning happy group, so Thanksgiving means lying. Thanksgiving is a hell unlike any other because we all get together and pretend the bad never happened while we all act thankful. Thankful for what? How warped you made us all? Irony is most of your children now work to help others from suffering.

Three times in the past month someone has pointed out that my treatment of women is directly related to my relationship with my mother. I tend to ignore most people’s comments on this subject. I don’t intentionally do it, and I don’t mean to womanize or be an ass. I don’t really know why I do it, I haven’t spent much time giving the theory credit. I like to pretend I am not susceptible to things like this, when really I should know better. The three closest people to me have all pointed out that I am rude and abrasive because of this, and I tend to be very harsh when judging them due to my relationship with mommy dearest. Even now you still fuck my life up, that’s just so typical Mother.

This may never find it’s way to you and I’m okay with that. I need to just get this off my chest. I hurt you, I owe you an apology. You never did me any wrong, you just weren’t the one who I cared for as much as I pretended. Yes, I did care and I am sorry I wronged you. However I did not care that much, you did not mean what you think. I desired your attention, lusted for your body. When it comes down to the truth though, I didn’t care about your feelings, your desires. I wanted things from you but had no concern for what you wanted of me. I was selfish and arrogant, rude and childish at points. I ruined anything between us because I couldn’t admit these things then and now I wonder if I can ever fix what happened. I pushed you out of my life and wonder regularly why I was that way. I use to find that blaming being a drunk worked nicely as to why I acted in manners so cruel, but if truth be told I hate hiding behind that as an excuse. It makes me feel weak and pathetic. The booze didn’t make me act like I did, they just let me act as I wanted. I wanted to be that way to you and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I am truly sorry for my actions, I wish fixing them was so easy.

You know who you are and I know this will eventually find its way to you. You keep tabs on me as much as I keep tabs on you. There is so much I want to say to you, to fix in the story of what befell us. As much as I wish to “correct” your view, you deserve better. I once gave you an apology for a wrong I did to you. Those words still hold true; I accept my share of the blame. I am also to blame for our most recent interaction, rude and “dramatic” as it was. We simply cannot be friends. Not because I hate you, or because I’m mad at you, or because you haven’t changed or accepted any blame. We can’t be friends because I cared, and I can’t pretend that what happened didn’t matter. I won’t act as though I didn’t run just as much as you did; I used your freaking-out as the reason for my running. I could give a hundred excuses as to why: my traumatic childhood, my dark past, crippling alcoholism… the list goes on. But it would all be a lie, because the truth is I was scared. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time, actually being afraid of my own feelings. You cut through to the real me so quickly that I had no guard set up, so I panicked and used the first excuse I could to run away. Every time someone talks about you I am reminded of this. You and I can’t be friends because you will always show me how – at my core – I am still unable to handle my feelings. I should probably thank you for helping me realize this, and perhaps one day I will muster up the courage to dig through my phone for your number and apologize like a man, but for now this will have to do.

Being a therapist has given me a lot of time to evaluate myself and everything that’s happened. That being said, I expect I will gradually come to terms with my past here.

foreignlands replied to your photo: ….what? A porn blog likes my shoes….Does this mean…

i see you have liked 2 of my tumblr posts. i accept your invitation for sex.