Love, it’s a hell of a drug and the worst, in my opinion. Like all drugs, you grow up hearing about it, but instead of warnings… they tell you stories of how great it is. You’re talking to the addicts. They are already hooked. It only takes one time and you’re hooked for life. You can’t go to rehab or ever recover from this addiction. Love can destroy you, your family, or your life. People do some crazy things when they are on this drug. They hurt others. They give up dreams just to keep the drug. After your first hit, it’s the best feeling when you’re on it. You’d never imagine it would leave. You’re on top of the world. Nothing can ruin the high. You are in this state were all that matters is you and that drug. You hold onto it, tight, always making sure you have another hit close by. You spend any free moment with that love. If you’re not with it, you’re thinking about it. Thoughts of it consume your mind. You feel almost as if you’re invincible.  When the love is gone, you’re stuck. Searching for that high you once had. You scramble around and search for that rush again. You’ll spend the rest of your life trying to get it back. That moment when you realize it’s not there anymore… it literally breaks your heart. You feel this twist in your chest. Nothing can make it go away. You can numb it by trying to replace it, but in the end it hurts. It will be a while until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Even then, your heart still longs to feel the high once again. You see a shot to get it back and you hesitate, even if everything inside you aches to reach out a grab it. Your brain is the only thing that stops you. It reminds you that love can walk in and out of your life, and you have no control of that. It tells you that you shouldn’t take it because of that pain you felt last time.  You never listen to your brain. You know you’ll be so much happier with love in your life, so you take it. The second time around it’s even better, every time you have it. It’s a better and stronger high. Along with that, it’s a harder withdrawal, every time. With the good, comes the bad. Many will try the drug and end with heartbreak, over and over again. The best thing about this drug is it has a chance of being forever. You could grab on to that love and take it until the end of time. That’s only sometimes, and they are the lucky few. 

(Source: magneticpersonality)

Violent hands threw her into the wall, smacking her head against the wall. She looked up at the evil eyes, picking herself off of the floor. The dark figure had about 6 inches on her. She didn’t seem to give a fuck, she screamed, “I’ve fucking had enough. This is the end of either you or me. You have no power over me anymore.” As the adrenaline pumped through her veins, she stepped toward him, as he took a step back, as if he was threatened by her small frame coming at him. She was raging with anger that had been boiling over this for way too long. “Fuck you.” She muttered before taking a deep breath, and, with all her might, she gave him a hard shove to the floor. He collapsed on his chest and face down against the hardwood floors. She quickly took advantage of his moment of vulnerability and gripped the hair on his head and smashed his head into the floor over and over as hard as she could. The room began to grow dark around her and the sound faded out slowly. The next thing she knew was sitting on the floor next to his lifeless body with multiple stab wounds, and her clothes drench in blood that did not belong to her. She let go of the knife that her hand gripped so tightly and picked herself off the ground and bolted. She never looked back. She never wanted to. She was free. That was all she wanted, freedom.

(Source: magneticpersonality)

He shuffled around his room, grabbing a shoe box. Sitting on his bed, he place the box in front of him. He stared at it for a long time, as if it were a contest. He looked away as the box “won.” His arm extended to the box, pulling off the top. Inside the box were letters. Letters from that girl he was in love with, that eventually tore his heart in two. The letter his father left for him when he walked out, telling him to be the man of the house and take care of his mother and two sisters. The letter his twin sister wrote to him before her heart failed her, saying goodbye. Amongst the letters and envelopes laid a smaller box. He picked it up and opened the box. That box held one thing and one thing only. His blade. His comforter. His friend in the lonely times. His addiction. He picked it up. His hand knew exactly how to hold it. It hadn’t been too long, but it had been way too long for him. He imagined piercing the familiar silver friend through his skin, as deep as possible. Then it would all be over for him. He wouldn’t have to look in the mirror, hating the person who looks back at him. He wouldn’t need to hear his mother and sister scream at each other when they thought he was asleep. People wouldn’t have to deal with him or tolerate him, anymore. He could leave it all behind. His burden would be light. He knew he never had to courage to end it all like that, and he, in all honesty, didn’t really want it to be over. He just wanted to stop feeling how he felt. His mind flashed back to the moment this all started. Before he had scared himself. Before the blade hit the flesh. The memory was so vivid.

He was thirteen. A friend had just told him about this secret, where he left cuts in his flesh, and it made him feel so much better. Once his friend had left, he grabbed the pocket knife his father gave him the Christmas before. He slowly dragged the small blade across his arm. The blood quickly grew visible. In that moment, his problems seemed to fade into the background, and he felt a sense of peace. He bit his lower lip as he watched the blood trailed down his arm and dripped onto his shirt. He grabbed a towel and wiped the blood away to see the cut. The bleeding came to a stop soon enough. His mind snapped back to reality, and he changed his shirt and pulled a hoodie over his head.

Back then, he never would have thought those hoodies would hide his biggest secret for countless years. His scars screamed at him to reopen them as he contemplated whether to go there again or not. He remembered how everyone, who would find out, would ask him to stop, and told him they were always there for him. Well, he needed them now. Where the fuck are they? Everything in him wanted to feel the blade, telling him everything was going to be okay. Telling him he is still alive, letting him feel something in this numb world that he lives in. It took all his strength to put the blade away without drawing on his body. He put the box back into his closet. He knew he’d be back, and maybe he wouldn’t be as strong next time. 

(Source: magneticpersonality)

Dear You,

I like your smile, not just a smile for the hell of it… but the way I can hear you smile at the things I say. I like your heart. I like your music. I like listening to it with you, and you showing me new music. I like that you will sacrifice everything for the people you love. I like when you sing, even if you aren’t the best. I like that you teach me new things. I like that I can’t EXACTLY explain in the right words, what I like about you. But, that’s not enough, is it? I wish you understood… more than anything, I want you to understand. The plain truth is; everyone in my life leaves me after awhile. I just don’t want to get attached, let myself fall even more for you, and have you leave just like all the others. It’s all I know and all I have ever known.  I accept you, for you, every flaw, insecurity, and trust issue. You need to learn that everyone is a little fucked up; you’re not the only one. I kind of wished you could accept me for who I am. That is a girl, who doesn’t know any better than to keep people at a safe distance, who protects her heart, who doesn’t want to see you in pain, who won’t easily trust someone, who only wants good things for you. Sadly, I don’t think you will ever understand, you will always think that I’m just like everyone else, you will never believe I’m any different. I don’t know how to be someone you want. I wish I could make you happy, because that’s all you want. If I can be honest right now, I don’t think love is in my future at all. I believe in love, because I see it everywhere I go. I just feel like I’m a temporary thing. I’m good for a while, until something better comes along. People will leave eventually or replace me, and that’s a fact. Until you can show me you’re different, I can’t let you hold my heart.

Sincerely,

Me.

(Source: magneticpersonality)

He was sitting on my bed with me. I looked at his face as he laughed at something on the television. I bit on my lower lip, watching him. The TV was irrelevant. By this point, I didn’t even know what we were watching. I was only pretending to pay attention, while I snuck glances at the boy sitting beside me. Laying my hand on the bed in between us, I looked at his hand which was sitting in his lap. My hand begged him to take it in his. It felt so obvious, and he just didn’t comprehend. My heart would race every time his hand moved. I kept my eyes glued to the TV. Maybe if I don’t look or pay attention something will happen. As I started focusing on anything but him, his hand began to slowly travel next to mine, inching closer and closer. It took all that was in me to not chicken out and pull my hand away. His hand crawled so close and hesitated before his pinky followed by his other finger traveled onto my hand. His hands were warm. I turn my hand in his and interlocked my fingers with his. I looked down at our hands with a smile. Something in me grew bold and took it a step further; I leaned in close to him, leaving a small kiss on his cheek and resting my head on his shoulder. Suddenly, my thoughts caught up with me. Why did I do that? What the fuck is wrong with me? My mind raced, while I worried about what I had just done, until I felt his lips on the top of my head. He left a small kiss, and my cheeks blushed. I bit on my lower lip again. Who knew one little peck could calm all of my nerves?

(Source: magneticpersonality)