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Never Sugarcoated

Actual footage of me reading these bios. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

For me, the hardest part about online dating is taking a selfie that doesn’t resemble an oversized lawn gnome. The second hardest part is weeding out those sizzling-hot, ruby red flags. Nothing turns me on like vagueness and emotional unavailability.

Here you will find a collection of OkCupid profiles that intrigued me to the point of pursuing a relationship. These guys are still on the market, but be careful—they’ll steal your heart, money, self-esteem, and identity.

Mr. J


Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

Ice packs
and heat pads
and
muscle
relaxers.

Missed days,
and sick days—
no time for
a fracture.

Get up and dance for us,
stand up and sing.
Don’t expect us
to help pay for a thing.

Your health is vital,
I promise we mean it.
We’ll make a mess
and then
force you
to clean it.

If you complain
that you’re living in pain,
we will remind you
that you are to blame.

If
you
ask
for

one
more
day
off

and think it’s
ok

Remember we own you—
you don’t have a choice.
You don’t deserve
anything.


Photo by Leah Kelley from Pexels

Burnt floors
and marked walls,
pinned and taped
and sanded
down
to fill
the gaps
of nights
I can’t
remember.

Nights
I long
to forget.

Shadows dance
by the doorway;
their broken songs
flow through
the empty space,
leaving me
to fill in
the blanks.

Eyes closed,
I feel the
desperation
of a girl
without her
roots.

She never
said no
to a good time,
or to
anything
at all.

She was always
home,
but never
present—
her pain
was ever-present.
But she disappeared
upon
reflection.

Broken glass and withered roses, cracked and cold and lifeless like her body on…


Photo by cottonbro from Pexels | Edited by Never Sugarcoated

I am an addict. I know, I know, the term “addict” is questionable and outdated. But I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me. And I identify as an addict.

When I first got sober, a friend asked me how I was sure I was an addict. Aside from regularly waking up in strange places, there was a distinct behavior pattern before, during, and after my addictive benders. Upon explaining this cycle to my friend, she never asked me if I was an addict again.

This is not a scientific explanation of addiction—it’s about as anecdotal as it gets…


Photo by Francesca Zama from Pexels | Edited by Never Sugarcoated

Pressed against
the steering wheel,
lifeless with a heartbeat.
Snow-covered streets
never turn down
a dare.

The cracks in
your foundation
glisten in
the rearview
mirror.

Good thing
you can’t see.
It would have
ruined
your night
out.

Your disease
drips
from the bottle
stashed
beneath your seat,
beckoning
you to come
clean.

But you sleep.

My friend,
you’re lost
again,
trapped in
a cycle
that never
tires.

But I do.

I try so hard
to take your pain,
my fingers
bleed and scar—
daily reminders
of my failed
attempts
to lift you up
again.

But the truth, white as…


Photo by Three-shots from Pexels | Edited by Never Sugarcoated


Photo by Paula Schmidt from Pexels

Your space cannot be filled.
It grows deeper
with each passing day
that you’re gone.

I can’t take it.

I pray to the
the moon,
and the sun,
and the stars,
help me fake it.

But I can’t.

You opened my eyes,
held me while I
wailed and cried
in your bed.
On a Wednesday,
no less.

You needed to sleep
but you stayed
by my side
while
I mourned.

Ten years
of our lives
intertwined,
a true friendship
was born.

And now I’m supposed to act normal?

I’m supposed to pretend
your departure is fine?

Show up to events…


Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

Suddenly, I’m awake.
The cold stings my skin,
Light pierces my eyes.
It hurts.

I can’t move,
I can’t speak,
Can’t go back
To my dreams.

I’m trying to save my life.

The knife of truth
Slices through
All the lies,
And it stings,
Like a thousand small
tears to my heart.

It won’t stop.

Is the reason
I’ve lived
My life
In a dream
Because
Honesty
Makes me feel
Cheap?

Is the pain so great
That I’ll cry if I feel it?

Will my body keel over
And die if I feel it?

The unknown scares me more Than…


Photo by Alex Knight from Pexels

After I broke up with alcohol, I felt like an alien species visiting Earth for the first time. It was like waking up during the season finale of a show I’d never seen, only to find out I was the main character. Oof.

Looking back on my early days of recovery, I was able to stay sober because I went out of my way to do things that made me uncomfortable. A wise, sober friend told me: you can’t change your life without changing your life.

I had three main fears about getting sober, aside from giving up my beloved…

Never Sugarcoated

Sobriety. Sex. Diet culture. Creative nonfiction. Poetry. Occasional satire. I also write confessional letters to people, places, and things. She/her.

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