Fuck you

“So if you’re not talking to me again, which means you must’ve made up your mind cause i know i’ve made up mine. i’m tired of being your second, if-it-doesn’t-work-out choice. i’m tired of waiting for your replies and making up reasonable excuses in my head for why i don’t receive one. i’m done trying not to think about you during the days, and losing sleep when i can’t escape the thought of you at night. you planted seeds in my soul, let the flowers grow in the cracks of my bones, then stopped watering them, stopped caring.”well they’re dead now, so fuck you. 

No matter 

“You don’t realize how much he ruined you until you start talking to someone new. You do not realize how much you miss the way he talked to you, the way he took care of you, until someone else tries to do those same things.You will think about the fact that you miss the way he was always there. You will think of the way his presence always calmed you and the way his touch lingered on your skin whenever he was gone.

You don’t realize how much you fucking ache for that familiarity, for the way you were comfortable and how normal it felt to love him. You don’t realize it but you look for it in everyone, and it keeps you up at night that you haven’t found anyone that can make you feel like he used to.

You don’t realize any of it till you meet someone new and think, oh god, maybe he could be someone that stays. The worst part is that you hardly recovered from the way the last guy tore you apart. The worst part is that it terrifies you to think that you could get attached to someone like that again, because it felt like you pinned your heart to your sleeve only for the needle to break through the skin. The idea of loving someone the way you loved him makes you sick because you never thought you’d ever have to find someone else to begin with.”