Fucksub5
Iron
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2025
- Posts
- 59
- Reputation
- 85
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
She’s not hot. Not by this site’s standards.
She’s a low-tier Becky at best. Skin uneven from bleaching, hair half-dead and grown out, body soft in the worst way. She peaked at 15 and yeah, I met her right at that peak. I watched the decline in real time.
Now she looks tired all the time. Eyes sunken. Paranoia in her face. Makeup can’t save it. No amount of filters can hide what’s underneath. I know that. I’ve seen the raw version of her.
And she’s completely broken.
Schizoaffective. Delusional. Antisocial. One moment she’s crying about demons in the mirror, the next she’s accusing me of things I didn’t even do. Total instability. Long-term bad.
But despite all of that I bought the ticket.
I’m flying out to see her.
Not because she’s hot.
Not because she’s healthy.
Not even because she asked.
Because I can’t stop thinking about her.
Because some disgusting part of me still wants to hold her. Still thinks she’s mine.
Even now. Even like this.
I know it’s not love.
It’s obsession. Ownership. Memory. All tangled up.
I could have any girl who’s objectively better, and yet I’m still choosing the broken LTB who used to lay on my chest and tell me I was her whole world.
I leave in three days.
Don’t bother flaming me. I know it’s weak. I know it’s stupid.
I’m doing it anyway.
She’s not hot. Not by this site’s standards.
She’s a low-tier Becky at best. Skin uneven from bleaching, hair half-dead and grown out, body soft in the worst way. She peaked at 15 and yeah, I met her right at that peak. I watched the decline in real time.
Now she looks tired all the time. Eyes sunken. Paranoia in her face. Makeup can’t save it. No amount of filters can hide what’s underneath. I know that. I’ve seen the raw version of her.
And she’s completely broken.
Schizoaffective. Delusional. Antisocial. One moment she’s crying about demons in the mirror, the next she’s accusing me of things I didn’t even do. Total instability. Long-term bad.
But despite all of that I bought the ticket.
I’m flying out to see her.
Not because she’s hot.
Not because she’s healthy.
Not even because she asked.
Because I can’t stop thinking about her.
Because some disgusting part of me still wants to hold her. Still thinks she’s mine.
Even now. Even like this.
I know it’s not love.
It’s obsession. Ownership. Memory. All tangled up.
I could have any girl who’s objectively better, and yet I’m still choosing the broken LTB who used to lay on my chest and tell me I was her whole world.
I leave in three days.
Don’t bother flaming me. I know it’s weak. I know it’s stupid.
I’m doing it anyway.
