jcridgway
We sat in your hallway at the base of the stairs barely touching, our voices almost a whisper. We knew what we wanted to do, but we had to keep it a secret. Our fingers met, our hands melded together, and before I knew it your lips were on my lips.
Sometimes, all we want is to received love. After all, isn't that what life is worth living for? I'd like to wake up every day knowing that my love is reciprocal and that while I take the time to give—he will take the time to receive. And vice versa.
Themselves. They devour themselves when they are alone. The two of them. Leave them to themselves, they said. They will work their own issues out. And they did. Just like everyone thought they would. So, why are you so surprised? Why?
I hope they eat themselves alive. Those bitches. Those fucking arrogant and selfish bitches. I give and give and give and give. And those assholes just take and take and take and take until I'm left with nothing but my heart in pieces and my pride in shambles. How can they consider themselves my true friends when they've given me nothing?
Crew. Solidarity. Uniformity. Is this what a crew is? I always imagined that I'd prefer to belong in a clique than a crew, but in reality they are the same exact things. Screw it, I'd rather be alone. I think.
I have a crew. It's constantly changing, but it's grown with me throughout the years. My crew protects me, loves me, nourishes me, and needs me. And it's reciprocal. If I can never find my duo, at least I have my crew.