Wife'd Up By A Celebrity

I wouldn’t say that I’ve made the best decisions in life, not that I’ve made the WORST ones, but I could’ve done better. In my relationships, in my friendships, in my education. There’s a lot of mess ups, regrets, and wrong turns.      I could have trusted less, believed less, and definitely drank less in the many years since I turned eighteen. Well, maybe it started even before then, but as far as my parents know my exponential failures and mishaps didn’t start until I was eighteen, I’ll keep that lovely facade as long as possible. We can pretend that my high school years were flawless and innocent, despite the deep pits of mental illness that I suffocated in for the whole four years.      Mistake after mistake, pain after pain pushed me to late night drinking and desperate clings to men that only want to use me. And I guess that’s what I want as well, someone to take advantage, to treat me poorly because that’s the worth I’ve given to myself. That’s the standards I’ve set, not that it justifies their trash behavior and personalities.      Struggling constantly with my self awareness, yet complete disregard for my safety or worth is a consistent battle that I’ve endured the last couple years. It’s also what ultimately put me into the position I’m in now- this strange scenario that seems straight out of a movie. A scene causing me to have to ask myself, where am I? Whose room is this? Why am I naked, and why is there a man sitting at the end of the bed painting my toenails?