Heavy Breathing

You think about regret?

You know what I regret?  

The moment that I walked into his bedroom. I knew that I shouldn’t go there and I knew that I would regret it but I didn’t stop. I wanted to go somewhere with someone that wanted me. I don’t know what else to say about that night that I haven’t already cried into the wheel of my car. I hated the feeling of yuck all over my body and mind when I felt his hot hands wrap around my waist or the bloodshot eyes that stared at me from the sheets of his bed. I just wanted to be anywhere else but I wasn’t and the only person that I could blame was myself. I don’t tell people about this because it’s disgusting and I hate myself for doing it. I just wanted to be loved after so many boys had decided not to love me. I just wanted this one to be the one that changed all of that but he wasn’t. 

He did change me. 

I wished that he hadn’t. 

I blocked out his name but I haven’t blocked out his touch. I remember the blueprints of his apartment and the cold of the lock on the door. I remember what it felt like to gasp for breath and run away with my heart pounding. I don’t want to remember any of it which is why I refuse to think about the bad thing that I did. If I could block out all of the bad memories I wouldn’t remember anything ever. I would have no memories. Only the bad ones consume me. 

I am consumed. 

I don’t know what else to say about it. Regret is funny like that. The thing that destroys my lungs every time I think about it -is the thing that I bury. I bury it because I don’t know how to deal with the decisions that I made that brought me to this point. I hope that I don’t ever have to think about it again. I don’t even remember his name and I’m sure that he doesn’t remember mine. I don’t think that he remembers me at all. I don’t think that he thinks about me- I don’t think that any of the boys do. I have loved so many of them and not been loved in return. It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t love myself. Less wonder and more know. I know so many things, and wonder many more. I will never know everything as much as I try but I know that there is something about me that drives them away with lightning speeds. Something about me that tells them to run away and leave me in wonting. I am not the girl that they want- I’m not the girl that I want but we don’t decide to be more interesting than we are. 

We can’t always change our personalities or the fundamentals of our souls because if we did we would all be perfect. We would all be angels all of the time. I’m not an angel. Maybe a cherub with my weight. I am a demon.

Audio of the flash piece above. LISTEN HERE.

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