acheron

you should be alone more often. it's good for you. you shouldn't date. no i mean, you REALLY shouldn't date. oh, i know you mean well, but really, this'll make you appreciate the right man so much more. you should work on yourself more. because going to therapy twice a week isn't good enough. because all of the journal entries you write aren't good enough. because no one will love a flawed woman. give us your apathy; it's so hot. that perfect amount of i don't give a fuck about you. we all can do it, why can't you? and when you've fixed every issue we can pick at you for, then, only then will it be ok for you to date. then we'll want you. because you won't want us. because we're always glad to take from the pie but not to be there when you're down. and while you're at it, why don't you smile and nod and say i'm right and like it? like every minute of being alone. enjoy it every time somebody tells you you're not fit to be with anyone because you're too fucked up. respect us. call us divine advisors, friends. because god knows we'll never love you with your flaws. now go practice being alone. and call me when you're perfect. we might be fucked up, but at least we won't admit it. at least we won't realize we've lived through a whole lot less than you have and instead will think we're somehow qualified to give you advice. because, of course, we're not at all fucked up.

edit/add:
i see your eyes framed by dark, your body the way i saw it for the first time and that laugh that awful mocking laugh of yours that wafts down from your lips to my ears and reminds me that the laugh comes from above because you look down on me for the things i cannot change about myself. your laughter echoes over my little squeaks of a voice. always too loud or too soft but never right to "mesh"*, to make the overtone shine out.

you'd be happy if i went, wouldn't you?
*"mesh": your word, not mine.
"that's it, i'm sick, get out."