I want to be understood. I want to be loved. I want to feel comfortable being who I am. I want to be free. I want to illuminate the darkest corners of my mind and really awaken my once artistic mind. I want to run away and see the most beautiful parts of the world. I want to wake up to the iridescent light of dawn gracing his face. I want my life to be a work of art. I’m an artists, writer, lover, friend, daughter, employee, student. But I dont know who I am. And I dont think I will find myself here.

I want to tell him all the ways I love him. I want to know everything he feels for me. I want to know what about me he thinks is beautiful. I want to show him all the different things I’ve noticed about our relationship ship. I want to admit that its more than just Fucking. I want him to read those letters and tell me not to be scared anymore, because he loves me. I want him to say those words and kiss me and tell me he wants me And he will stay with me for as long as possible. I want to get so high I see God when I kiss him. I want to take a hit that he blows into my mouth. I want to fall asleep with his arms around me and my hand on his chest. I want to whisper to him all the things that scare me when the lights are off. I want him to listen. I want him.

Someone to write about me/have an arts project ie. Photography, drawing, painting, where I am the subject matter.

Be a museum curator or top researcher for the Smithsonians when I get my masters in art history with a bachelors in religion.

Live in New York and be able to see my best friend and drink with him when ever the fuck I want.

Travel to the most amazing places around the world for work and for holiday.

Own multiple homes around the world.

Be surrounded by artists, musicians, intellects, designers and just interesting people in general.

Wear wigs and change them everyday because my extremely thin hair is slightly annoying.

Eat in the most delicious places.

Be with someone who is loyal, calls me baby, makes me laugh, has great sex with me, is just as successful and intelligent, accepts me, and loves me without being overbearing.

Wear mugler on casual Fridays.

Wake up knowing I made my life one that will be remembered and celebrated, and I did it without asking anyone for permission.

I want to live my life large and make no apologies for who I am.

Free bit,

I really just want someone to cuddle, smoke cigarettes, drink coffee, walk around downtown, eat good food, drink good wine and liquor, watch great films, listen to all genres of good music, go to plays, operas, dance, and talk endlessly about eachothers lives, interests and tastes with.
too much to ask?
Apparently.

I felt like I was leaving everything I had worked for years to get, behind. It was as if all the nights crying and begging to find who I was as a person were for nothing. As long as I was you’re girlfriend, you didn’t care about anything else. You refused to hear about a huge part of my life that literally means the world to me. I was stupid for letting this new found relationship get the better of me. However, at some point, were you ever going to look past what you only saw on the outside and see what lay beyond my smile? You don’t really know me, not like James does. And frankly, I’m cautious to let you in again because when I tried, you wanted nothing to do with it. Maybe this is all my fault, and I’m sure I have to take most of the responsibility for it anyways. But it hurts knowing someone who says they love you, doesn’t even fully know or understand you. It’s shitty knowing only pieces of you are worth loving and sticking around for. 

You were outraged at my stubbornness and defensiveness over my only friendship. But that was one piece of my life that I will never surrender, because it’s one of the main reasons I’m still here and why I am who I am. New York and James are a part of me and they always will be. I hate the fact that you said “No one is ever going to except your friendship with him when you’re in a relationship, because you defend it so much.” Well then I guess I’m gonna be alone for a long time aren’t I? And you know what? That’s no longer your problem. 

I’m upset, and even though I don’t show you, because I know you won’t give a fuck, I’m hurting on the inside. I thought I found someone who would accept every part of me and all the crazy and fucked up twists and turns of my past and who I am now because of it. But no, I had to change and hide things because you didn’t want to hear them, or it made you upset if you did. I really learned a huge lesson because of you, and I don’t hate you by any means. I shouldn’t have been so stupid as to let you change who I am. Luckily, I caught it  before it was too late. And now I’m out of that box, where only small portions of who I am, were allowed to show. 

I know you’re probably reading this and hurting over it. But I don’t want you to be hurt even more then you already are. I never meant to hurt you, or cause you any pain. I’m not quite that cruel. I’m selfish about who I am and the few things I have, that have set me free. 

I’m a fucked up person because of my past, and I am trying to get over it. So far, it’s worked out well. And if how I’m dealing with it, isn’t good enough for you, then you can leave. No one, is ever going to make me feel like I’m not good enough or like I’m too stupid to know how to deal with my own problems. Maybe they’re not the best methods, but hey, I’ve come along way from cutting myself and starving for months. 

I know you feel used and like I don’t love you. But that’s not at all the case. I know how it is to love someone so intensely and with everything you have, and for them to not even think of you while they’re with someone else. Anna did it, and so did Josh. I know what it’s like to have the very fiber that kept you in one piece, to be torn apart brutally and without hesitation. I know how fucked up people are and how much pain they can cause. So no, you’re not going through that. Because if you were, you wouldn’t even talk to me. You know I love you, and that you put me through hell without a moments thought as to what the fuck I was feeling or needing or wanting. I did everything for you except sleep on the floor with the rats, and that was seriously considered for your convenience. 

I’m sorry for this unleashing. But I finally feel like I can be who the fuck I am, without the fear of a fight, or making you upset. I’m looking out for myself and what I want. I don’t want attachments or any restrictions. 

I want to go to New York, get a Black Jack burger with James, and go vintage shopping in the East-village. I want to go to figure out what I want out of life and go for it. I’m tired of spinning my wheels. 

Sorry for the rant. 

Bella-T out.