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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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killing time
I’ve been notorious to be the girl that others enjoy using as a ‘time filler’ - so I’ve noticed. I find myself falling over and over again for people that don’t quite feel the same way. Of course, behind their pretty words and the whole “let me convince you that I mutually like you back” notions, I often began to believe that maybe, just maybe, things will be mutual for once. But, as always, it never is. I somehow always manage to let myself love more. It doesn’t matter if the relationship is platonic or romantic, I always feel like my end is the one loving way more than it should. My soul has so much love and I’m not sure that others can quite handle that. And I don’t believe I’ve ever been in a place where I’ve felt otherwise. Despite the fact that I’ve sat here and pretended like I’m okay with it, putting on a facade of “I don’t give a fuck”, it almost seems like it gives others the excuse to think their actions of leading me on is okay. But the scary thing is, and why I’m writing this, is that I’ve oddly become okay with it recently. I’ve become immune to high expectations and them being tore down with the reality that my idea of loving someone else is way too optimistic. So, that’s why I’ve decided to have my fun. I will continue loving others as hard as I can, but I refuse to let myself be convinced that things will work out in the end. Until someone out there can prove to me that I can be loved more than I have the capacity to love others, I will use my adoration for pure pleasure. I will not allow myself to be hurt by others that can’t see my worth and my love for them.
At some point, I have to stop writing about the people who left. I have to stop rewriting stories to make it look like nothing ever ended. At some point, I have to declutter my workspace and throw away unsent letters, delete drafts that I can’t finish, take down tiny notes I accidentally published. I’m tired of twisting tales. They left and that’s all of it.
hardboundnotebook (via wordsnquotes)
Expectation is the root of all heartache.
Shakespeare (via refluent)
We can’t selectively numb emotion. Numb the dark and you numb the light.
Brené Brown (via quotemadness)
And sometimes it hits me out of nowhere. All of a sudden this overwhelming sadness rushes over me. And I get discouraged and I get upset and I feel hopeless, sad and hurt. And once again, I feel numb to the world.
Anonymous. (via unlively)
“The label were considering letting her go. I said listen, even if you drop her, I will pay her to come to my house and sing. Cause the shit fucking moves me.”
Laura Zalenga
I want you to drunk text me. I want you to think about me. Please fucking think about me sometimes because the only thing I do is think about you
(via nakedly)