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𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:
“Oh! Darling – The Beatles” ★
01:22 ━━━━●───── 04:16
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡

Most men I see as pawns in a game of chess.

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I don’t mean that to be rude, think of it as reversing the patriarchy. For centuries men have ruled with an iron fist and faced little to no consequences; that being said, that has absolutely nothing to do with anything I’m about to tell you.

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I don’t feel bad for Darius.

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I don’t feel bad for Darius in the same way that I don’t feel bad for the bag of potato chips that I’m eating while I write this. Why would I feel bad for an inanimate object? A tool? The chips nourish me, keep me from starving. Darius reflects me, keeps me from non-existence. 

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Contrary to popular consensus that will be gathered after reading that, I’m not a sociopath. I know people have emotions, I even get the honor of experiencing more emotions in one day then most people will ever experience in their lives. But Darius isn’t people. I understand that logically it follows that since he is a living being, he has emotions. Gary Ridgeway also had emotions, but I wouldn’t care about hurting his feelings. 

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I’m not comparing Darius to Gary Ridgeway because I think he’s capable of being a serial killer; I’m comparing Darius to Gary Ridgeway because they’re both incompetent. When Darius and I first hung out he asked what song would I use to describe myself… I said Cheatin’ Woman by Lynard Skynard. He’s still in love with me so obviously he didn’t get the message. I can deal with a lot of things, stupid individuals aren’t one. 

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Contrary to popular consensus that will be gathered after reading that, I’m not morally bankrupt. I’ve given Darius ample opportunities and reasons to leave me. Deep down I know what I’m doing is wrong but I would never pull the cord to my own life-support, so I let him. Instead of doing so he decides to post Teddy Pendergrass songs on his Instagram notes and stalk my TikTok repost.

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It gives me the ick, honestly. Not him refusing to leave me (how could I blame him?), but the outward expression of sorrow. Crying in my inbox to text you back is one thing, publicly announcing that you’re going through the blues is another. It takes me back to November 11th, 2022, when Josh made it a point to put his head down on the table in Spanish class to show he was upset. I feel bad for Josh.

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 I sent Darius the blog; I set Darius free; And now… I feel bad for Darius.