DIARY OF AN OXYGEN THIEF By Anonymous (The Oxygen Thief Diaries)

People who appeared as if they were used to being loved (Strange thing to say, but that's how they looked to me...the sought-after).

What's a romance without anger, tears and woe?

Love, hate, what's the difference?

I was trying to soak her up into me. I could have written a book about her.

Whoops.

The best amends I could make was to stay out of their lives. I had no right to go back and make their load heavier just to relieve mine.

I don't have to do whatever-it-is forever, I just do it today.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“Fuck you.”

If I saw someone across the street who did the things to me that I routinely do to me I’d run in the opposite direction. But I can’t, can I?

I’m married to me.

Where was I? Suicide. Yes, suicide

Exquisite torture.

And it was so hot.