live fast, die young

I have always been one of the ''good girls''. I had my life riding through a defined, controled line. I have always been moving forward. I had good grades. I knew what kind of adult I wanted to become. I din't go out too much, I did my (un)fair share at home. I only dated boys I loved. I was coping. I was happy. But I don't know which way I'm more miserable: in control or out of it. 

Now I can't stand to be home. I'm no longer afraid to get home high. I find myself asking for another shot, and another, and another, because this vodka sure tastes better than my tears. I keep telling myself ''This isn't you'' but maybe it is. At least, that's who I have been being... 

It's 4 am, I should have gotten home 2 hours ago but my phone is off so as my attention. I'm in the car, next to you, and I'm sure some kind of music is playing but I'm too unfocused to even notice it. 

We have nothing in common. It's easy with you, you never ask me about my day, you never want me to talk about my life. We are just next to each other, two mouths that wanna be kissed, but not loved. Maybe this will keep the sadness away from us. 

I don't get nervous around you - I get higher. I don't hesitate when you come closer. I don't tremble before I kiss you - I just lean in. 

We can only last until I get bored of you, or until you fall in love with me - and usually these 2 things happen at the same time. 

I have it exactly like I want to: no holding hands, no goodbye kisses, no "see you tomorrow". 

This isn't a text about you. This is a text about how fucked up I am to even be with a guy like you. 

But it doesn't matter, I need you to be cold, too. I'm not with you because you make me feel happy, I don't search for you because you make me feel better, I don't wanna feel anything. I just call you when I'm numb. 

...and you always answer. 

Alice