I've never been privileged with just 'getting over shit' whenever I'm at crossroads 'cause of love. I don't drown myself in tequila shots, act like a toughie in front of my holmes or ever wake up with another random bitch next to me. I'm not good at being the 'standard' guy people always expect in gents when it comes to dealing with shit that hurts.
Tell me about loving a hun genuinely, diving in with two feet and a head whilst making a few accountable mistakes along the way, that's me. I don't really know how to heal, but I believe in grief.
When a wound is fresh, the aim is to treat it. But the long-term goal is for it to heal. There's no point in acting like you can keep it together in public but wetting the pillow every night, whenever you close your eyes — all because you were vulnerable and got fucked over in the process.
Like Drake said, "tables turn... " (life is a bitch); "... bridges burn" (shit happens); "... we live and learn" (self-explanatory). I don't think he meant we shouldn't deal with pain though.
Stop carving holes inside you to tuck in pain only to let it haunt you later, in most cases you won't even know what to do.
My advice, cry bro — cry a shit lot if it hurts and keep it moving. A lesson or two was learned. You grew in the process.
YOU ARE READING
archives.
Poetryall of my love & sexual stories. all of the pain & satisfaction all of my disgusting desires, and more
