The lies. The gaslighting. The years of telling people I was crazy when you weren’t covering your tracks as well as you should’ve if you didn’t want me to know. Unfortunately, she wasn’t good enough at covering her tracks either. & now, here we are. Out in the open. Half a decade worth of abuse followed by the next half of you spreading lies to convince everyone I was the problem.

My ptsd is off the charts. The validation of not being crazy is nice, but fuck. I’m not okay.

grippiersockgangggg-deactivated:

I was not made for….*gestures broadly at the world*

thoughtkick:

“Sometimes I wonder how fast you have sneaked into my heart…”

— Thoughtkick

animatedtext:

heartlessqueen:

do you ever think about this quote by mary lambert because i think about it all the time

remanence-of-love:

letsbelonelytogetherr:

“I fantasise about rejecting the apologies that i know will never come.”