WHEN BED IS THE ONLY OPTION.

I had just turned 25, this was the year I was really going to get my shit together, after all it was only another 2 until I had promised myself suicide from this miserable life. I spent the entirety of the first week of 25 in bed, with the exception of one night, where I vomit and shat myself copious amounts of times. It was with this year I held for myself such high expectations but I soon came to the realization that I would probably spend the majority of it in bed. My boyfriend - who is complex at the best of times ‘I need space’ being a catchphrase that I was beginning to tire from had just told me he had loved me back, though I was beginning to wonder how long the ‘love’ would last, before the ‘space’ would kick back in... It took 2 days.

This is a post from years ago but I kinda like it so I am posting it anyways and maybe one day I will edit it and finish it but for now enjoy the paragraph. It’s yours for the keeping but not the taking.