On Saying I Don’t Give a Fuck Again

“I will never regret what you’ve taken from me

I know the bombs that you drop are heart-shaped
But it doesn’t matter they do the same amount of damage anyway

Farewell, my love!”

It’s time.

It’s time to break hearts.

It’s time to hurt some people, maybe cut myself a little along the way, but it’s okay.

I’ve bled before.

The thing that is different this time is that I am doing this for myself. Not for someone else. Being able to stand alone independently next to someone else is the goal, not being attached at the hip and co-dependent. I don’t need someone. I choose someone. For some reason, and perhaps it was the advent of Facebook/social media which triggered the obsession with being “in a relationship”, our society fosters a crippling co-dependency upon one another. Amatonormativity. Google it. Fuck that.

I’ll be shunned. I’ll probably be called a slut. Or a tease. Or whatever. Whatever.

I don’t give a fuck.

Not giving a fuck does not mean being apathetic. It means staring down whatever is in your way and taking action to move through it.

I had already started this process before it came up in dialogue.

Because I don’t give a fuck.

Now, this is not to say I don’t give a fuck about the feelings of others. In fact, quite the opposite. I care very much for all the people I have chosen to keep in my life, for whichever reason, be it friendship, romance, family, what have you… I care very much. That is why I have to speak up now. I know that it will hurt, and I am sorry to have hurt you or confused you or eaten your heart right out of your chests. But I must move on.

This is my time, my life. And I know damn well firsthand that life is way too fucking short. I have to regurgitate this here because if I don’t, I might miss out on this memory when it comes time for me to reflect, muse over, take honest inventory of my life at this point in time, this Thanksgiving Day, November 22, 2018.

I have to say I don’t give a fuck despite the fact that I am terrified because I know that this fear is worth it, and time is fleeting. What if this is the sweetest thing and I miss out?

I don’t need to explain how I feel about someone else simply to justify my actions, choices. What matters is that I do have a feeling that this might be worth it.

I have to set myself free.

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