oh, what a day: Aug 21, 2017.

today is a solar eclipse.

It also happens to be the anniversary of the first time we kissed.

I remember it like it was yesterday because it was the first time I wasn’t nervous to kiss a boy.

we were in your bed, laying down, and you were holding me from behind.

god, I could’ve stayed there forever. 

you started kissing my neck and stroking my body and it was like every nerve woke up where you touched.

you were sick at the time, a cold. and we had told each other we would wait till you got better but you made it so hard.

I said “screw it” and i turned around and kissed you.

It felt right.

months later and your ex and i found out you were talking to us at the same time.

so fuck you, 

we’re doing great without you.

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natalia is never allowed to get drunk ever again 

I believe the best way to deal with bad things happening to me is to not take them seriously. 

like my parents divorce or my eating disorder or in this case, when my sober close friend made the decision to make out with me while I was wasted.

I barely remembered it when I woke up.

The more I talked about it the more I started to remember. 

I remember us talking about how I was still drunk.

I remember telling him it was his decision whether or not something happened.

I remember him stroking my body before it happened.

I remember him grabbing me and pulling me closer as it happened.

I don’t remember every single detail but I remember enough to be full of regret, discomfort, and disgust. 

As the days go on its all I can think about. I wanna remember the whole thing but it probably won’t happen if it’s already been a day and a half.

I talk about it seriously on here, but of the 2 people i told i have convinced them that I am not nearly as hurt and affected by it even though it’s been clouding my mind.

he was supposed to be my friend.

just my friend.

but friends don’t take advantage of you.

I found a box of his things & then I cried again 

it contained a small amount of things: sunglasses he bought me, shirts he both gave me and that I stole, a bracelet he gave me from his trip to Florida (i asked him “isn’t this special to you?” and he replied “yeah but so are you”), the shoes he bought me after I refused, a ticket stub from our first date, and lastly, a like of poems i wrote about him. I knew I shouldn’t have read through them but the masochist in me won and i really felt it hit me.

he is gone for months.

we will not speak till january.

and the note we left on was bitter and awful and full of hurt and absolute confusion. 

I wasn’t sure who to believe at that point because nothing was adding up and i felt like my brain was going to fucking explode because so much was happening all at once and then you were just gone 

and all that’s left is me and her talking about the past and talking about how we’re gonna make it to the future.

happy birthday, you piece of absolute garbage 

August 10th, the day you were born. 

today is going to suck because you will be all I can think of today.

like, “what are you doing” and “are you doing well” and “do you still think about me” and “do you still think about her” and “do you think about what you did to us because you fucking ruined us both and i hope it eats away at you till the day you come back”.

I started a photography project on you. happy birthday; it can be your present. im hoping it gives me the temporary closure that I deserve because the day you come back i will be ready for it. I will no longer be the sad girl that is currently sitting and writing this. I will be strong and steady and firm and sure.

happy birthday.

fuck you. 

eye contact is a thing of the past, brown eyes.

everything reminds me of him. 

old cars, dimples, brown eyes, large steering wheels, dinosaurs, even fucking burritos.

he follows me everywhere I go and it sucks because I just want to heal and i cannot do that if he is still here in my mind.

he took my heart and my sanity to freaking south carolina.

memories in his bed and in his stupid beautiful car play in my head on a loop when I am alone which is the WORST because all I want to be right now is alone. 

brown eyes aren’t the same for me anymore which means I can never look my own damn self in the eyes without wanting to ball up my fists and pull at my hair.

i wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing.