let me, let you

My name is A, and this is my story. Maybe one day, my friends will find this. One day, they'll read about all the feelings that I'm unable to express - all the feelings I bury deep down in my heart.
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And so today was yet another one of those tiring days, where I had to keep my smile up to prevent my friends from worrying (and people from gossiping and spreading stuff around, saying that I’ve been rather emotional lately after reading my twitter). It’s getting easier to fake a smile, and pretend that I’m really fine with everything. Fine with how one day you treat me like as if I’m someone important, and throw me away the next. Fine with how you (another you) can be such a slut, pretending to be nice to me when all you are trying to do is find ways to ruin my life. Sometimes, I really wonder how a slut like you had to chance to enter this world.  I saw something I didn’t want to see today. And it affected me so much that I couldn’t concentrate properly for the rest of the day. My mind is filled with you, you, you.  I wonder if you even remember me. I wonder if you’d even remember, tomorrow, that there’s something I need to take back from you.  I hope you don’t hate me and I certainly hope you’re not in cahoots with that slut. It’s like I want in, and yet I want out. Feelings. How they confuse me. 

And so today was yet another one of those tiring days, where I had to keep my smile up to prevent my friends from worrying (and people from gossiping and spreading stuff around, saying that I’ve been rather emotional lately after reading my twitter). It’s getting easier to fake a smile, and pretend that I’m really fine with everything. Fine with how one day you treat me like as if I’m someone important, and throw me away the next. Fine with how you (another you) can be such a slut, pretending to be nice to me when all you are trying to do is find ways to ruin my life. Sometimes, I really wonder how a slut like you had to chance to enter this world. 

I saw something I didn’t want to see today. And it affected me so much that I couldn’t concentrate properly for the rest of the day. My mind is filled with you, you, you. 

I wonder if you even remember me. I wonder if you’d even remember, tomorrow, that there’s something I need to take back from you. 

I hope you don’t hate me and I certainly hope you’re not in cahoots with that slut. It’s like I want in, and yet I want out.

Feelings.

How they confuse me. 

(Source: youjustyou)

THIS.

THIS.

Not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not smart enough, not amazing enough. In short, not good enough, and never will be (for you). 

Not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not smart enough, not amazing enough. In short, not good enough, and never will be (for you). 

(Source: youjustyou)

Will I ever find that someone? 

Will I ever find that someone? 

(Source: anditslove)

You want the truth? Here’s the truth. I miss you. Occassionally. That’s not much, but just know that I miss you. What we had was real. I miss it. 

You want the truth? Here’s the truth. I miss you. Occassionally. That’s not much, but just know that I miss you. What we had was real. I miss it. 

(Source: anditslove)

(Source: youjustyou)

“ The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we’ve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we’ve found each other. And maybe each time, we’ve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come. ”

Nicholas Sparks  (via cosive)

(Source: grovegrove)

What hurts the most.

After around half a year, we were finally back at the same place again. This time, the atmosphere was different, the way we looked at each other was also different. I looked at you, and couldn’t help but remember the happy times we once had. Sitting at the exact same place we had sat around 6 months ago, memories came flooding back. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t think about you much anymore. All I miss is what we used to have. What we used to share. Our love, and more importantly, our friendship. Maybe one day, someone will find this. Maybe you will. Who knows? 

What I felt when I was with you was pure happiness. What we had was real, or so I would like to believe. Sometimes, when I see you around other girls, I’d start to doubt that your feelings for me were even true in the first place, but looking back at all the pictures we took together, all the fun and laughter we had, I’d really like to think that what we had was genuine, and definitely special. 

Things between us are getting better. Or at least I think. When you first spoke directly to me a yesterday after what felt like eternity, I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt at ease. 

I really hope we can be friends again, one day. Here’s to you. 

“ Waiting for you is like waiting for rain in this drought; useless and disappointing. ”

A Cinderella Story 

“ It’s because I like you, I don’t want to be with you. It’s a complicated emotion. ”

Finding Nemo

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