The worst part is that I should be used to this by now.
How can I tell you that you’re a disappointment?
How can I make you care?
I always think about how my actions affect others
But I don’t always care
that moment of intimacy with the person who adjusts your seat belt on a roller coaster
Realizing that the only thing I miss is the sex.
Everything else about you is shit.
You know when you’re driving on the freeway at night and as you’re approaching the city, you see all the little lights. Or when you’re standing on the beach and you look out at the ocean and take in it’s immensity.
You feel so fucking small. But I feel strangely relieved. Like I am so…