I remember this place. It's the place where I shared my deepest thoughts. The ones you don't even tell your closest being whoever or whatever it might be. I have a story, but this time I'll try to steer away from the abstract and the metaphors, but old habits die hard. You know, can't teach an old bitch new tricks and all that nonsense.

I was dating this man. He made me feel safe, but not wanted. This might be weird, but that's what I wanted in a man after the one that got away made me feel wanted, but never safe. My ex never abused me, but I just never felt safe to be myself with him. It probably explains why he never made me cum. Anyway, this new man, he had the potential to make me cum and more... However, we encountered ruffled feathers. He was shy to reveal that he had been married before, he hinted that he was a broken soul for a while after the divorce, his relationship with his father hadn't always been ideal...There's more, but it's not for me to air out his dirty laundry, so I'll share mine. I am also a broken soul. I dropped out of college because I couldn't study anymore. I skipped all my exams and procrastinated on my assignments; as well as taking advantage of compassionate professors. It wasn't intentional, but I lost the will to put effort in everything and to add irony to the mix, I was...nope, I am still afraid of dying.

I am in limbo. I recently quit my job because I was unhappy. That's such a lame excuse, but it was either the job or my life. I took the decision almost the same way that I took the decision to quit school. I was walking over an overpass and I told myself that it would be so easy to jump. I should've? Nope, it's not a guaranteed death. There's nothing wrong with me. I just thought I'd have it made by now, or dead by my own hands after failing to answer: "what's left to be done?" [...] I keep reminding myself that I'm not suicidal because I haven't hit rock bottom. I have a great life, yet I find myself reluctantly leading it there until I remember my fear of dying and ambition starts kicking in. My friends, unknowingly, keep reminding me of my potential. I hate that word. I always did, but it's not just my potential that I love. It's myself and all my flaws and they suck that too. They tell me that I am wise, so why don't I use that wisdom?

So here I am. I am dating this man. He doesn't have any idea who I am, and he's being vulnerable with me. He opens up about his past and his problems and I play the supportive role. So when he swears at me, I just take it. When he holds me tight in his arms, I just take it. When he freaks out at me for not ensuring him that he didn't hurt me, I just take it. When he tells me that he just wants to see where this goes, I just take it. Commitment scares me too. When he tells he that he simply wanted to vant out his frustrations with the way I acted, I just take it. When he smiles, I just take it. When he f**ks me, I just enjoy it. When he tells me he's afraid of loosing me, I just believe him. When he asks me to like him with his flaws, I just try it. Finally, when he told me that he is literally broken and that it is triggered by people leaving him, I just left him.

I think therefore I am a bitch.

P.S. I realize there was no story, but I just wrote what was incoherently in my mind. I apologize. I'm sure I'll have actual stories once I comeback from Germany.

when is enough, finally enough?