imagining my upcoming future without you:
checking up on your ig, to see who you’re fucking, and if they fulfilled the ultimate fantasy i thought i could never completely fill,
posting pictures of myself, knowing that you’re probably saving and jacking off to it,
feeling that brief feeling of power over you,
then feeling disgusted by you all at the same time.
getting on dating apps, and finally understanding everyone’s qualms with the dating in LA,
fucking whoever i want,
fucking everyone i wanted to fuck while we dated,
having sex that’s better than what we’ve ever had,
having bad, awkward sex with someone who means nothing to me.
having my own space again
creating again
feeling like myself again.
becoming alone,
sleeping on my side of the bed with no one
and inevitably getting nostalgic every once in a while.
using all that energy i spent on loving you, on loving myself.
wondering if i regret breaking up with you, and the other futures i’ve imagined.
realizing these theoreticals are meaningless anyway.











