entirely guilty by design ♥

You probably hate me by now. I've stop talking to you when I promised we'de stay friends. And I know that you tried to do so. But then you stop trying. And I guess that's alright. I do that a lot you know? I stop talking to people, hoping that when I miss them so much it hurts, they'll still talk to me. I'm selfish I know, but I can't help it.  I've probably hurt you more now that we're over than you ever did when we were together.  And it's not fair. At least not for you. I get it, I really do.  But I found it weird every time you talked to me, I  didn't want to talk to you anymore. I needed time, I needed space and you were just so nice that I couldn't tell you that.  And then I found some things that I didn't like and I stopped feeling guilty for feeling this way and just got mad. And now... I just don't feel anything. I guess.  I really did love you, you know? And I know you loved me too. I felt it and you made me so

I shouldn't be thinking about you I shouldn't be thinking about you I shouldn't be thinking about you I shouldn't be thinking about you shit. fuck, fuck, fuck this I was going to write sad things, about how bad this is and how I'm feeling addicted to you, but you know what? I'm tired, I want to sleep and I don't have time for this so I thought to myself: "I'm gonna let it all out here and then I'm going to stop and sleep." so here I am, ready to let you go from my mind, because you can't live here. so here I am, ready to get detached, because I can do it as easily as I got hooked up on you so here I am, because I just want two more hours of sleep and you can't take my sleep from me and I'm not mad, I'm not hurt, I'm not sad, I'm just so fucking tired. so yeah, this was dumb and it doesn't make any sense, but I think I need to do this because ever since Thursday that I've been having the fucking wo

maybe I'm not enough for anybody, not even for me maybe nobody is enough for me maybe I have ridiculous standards about people and the only people who meet them don't want me maybe I don't like myself most days but I can't change that maybe I'm an introvert with the need of social acception to feel alright maybe this is all there is  maybe this is the best I can do maybe I'm tired of being myself maybe nobody cares, only when I'm okay lately I've been feeling like this, only to realize I've felt like this for a long time. I don't know why. and I never felt the need to share these kind of feelings with anyone in the past, not even with my ex-boyfriend. maybe because I thought he wouldn't understand. because nobody does in reality. not because I'm a special snowflake, but because I can't even understand myself, so how can others? and I always hurt people. I'm always fucking things up when they're alright. that's

I guess it's only fair. I guess I deserve this. I deserve to feel like shit when all I do is make people around me feel the same. Because that's what I do. I hurt people and they get away. I hurt people and they leave me. And then I am alone. And I guess I deserve this. Sometimes I just wake up and feel so empty. Empty because I am lonely even when I am not alone. Empty because I feel worthless even though I have value. Empty because I am so much and I am seen as so little.  Today was one of these days. I woke up and then I... just was. I just stood here, all alone, wanting to do stuff but not doing them. Just looking at the time passing by, wasting it and throwing it away. So I just sit here, on my phone, looking at the same things, waiting I guess. For what? I don't know, maybe for someone to talk with me, maybe for someone to show me they care. Because today I feel like nobody cares about me. And if nobody cares why should I? Why should I eat? Why should I sleep? Wh

Finalmente estou a escrever. Depois de tanto tempo, pensando que tinha perdido a minha "veia artística" (enfim), que tão cedo não ia voltar a escrever e que a minha velha amiga imaginação me tinha abandonado. Devia estar feliz? Adoro escrever, mas é só por tua causa que o estou a fazer agora. Tenho saudades tuas e isso faz-me pensar, parar o tempo. A verdade é que... gostava voltar para o tempo em que era tudo tão simples contigo. Na altura, bastava dizer que te queria e tu encontravas-me.  Nada era mais simples que tu e eu e eu e tu porque não sofríamos. Mas agora... agora sofro porque quero-te de novo para voltar à simplicidade de nós.  Mas tornou-se tudo tão complexo. E o complexo deixa-me confusa e triste e com saudades tuas. E faz-me pensar em ti e sentir a tua falta, quando pensava que já te tinha ultrapassado.  Penso nele e fico triste.  Triste?  Sim, triste. Porque ele não é simples. Não como tu és.  Já não sei. Não sei e acho que não quero saber.  E