may be shw was both everything I could ever want…
And nothing I could ever have
someone should have told me that love is for those few brave who can handle the unbearable emptiness,
the unbearable guilt and lack of oneself,
Because I lost myself to someone I love
and I might get myself back one day
but it will take time, it will take time.
This is gonna take some time.
I wish someone would have told me this.
Someone should have told me this
Out of the millions and millions of people that inhabit this planet, he is one of the tiny few I can never have
It shattered something inside me that hadn't been broken before
If you cannot hold me in your arms, then hold my memory in high regard.
And if I cannot be in your life, then at least let me live in your heart
You can obsess and obsess over how things ended—what you did wrong or could have done differently—but there's not much of a point. It's not like it'll change anything. So really, why worry?
You not wanting me was the beginning of me wanting myself so thank you 👍
Everybody said, "Follow your heart". I did, it got broken 🙆🏻♂️
You can’t turn love on and off like a light switch, no matter how hard you try. All you can do is wall it off, one brick at a time, until you’ve created an impenetrable fortress around your emotions
I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss her in the weeping of the rain
Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible
Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you
Gentle reader,
may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agised as in that hour left my lips: for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love
Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching
Was it hard?" I ask.
Letting go?"
Not as hard as holding on to something that wasn't real
Among my stillness was a pounding heart
Either give me your hand, or end it now, and put us both out of our misery
I was young and didn’t know better and someone should have told me to capture every second
every kiss & every night
Because now I’m sitting here alone and it’s getting really hard
Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.
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