This thing. Whatever it is for me. I don’t want to call it heartbreak because I don’t want to believe I was stupid enough to let you get that much of me. I don’t want to believe that after you cheated and after you did me so bad, that I had the will to let you get that much of me. It reminds me of getting blood taken. You give and give so much, all that is allowed, and after you do, it leaves you nauseas and you knew that it would have a few side effects but you had no idea that it could throw you to the ground after you thought you were stable enough to stand on your own. That’s what happened. That is what is happening. I feel stable one minute. I felt stable enough to go through and delete every picture I had of you which took away the visible memories. I felt stable enough to hide away our pictures that were on my wall so I didn’t have to see them every time I needed to sleep but couldn’t. I don’t think you loved me. I don’t want to think that, but if you were to love me as you say you did, no matter how incredibly wasted you were, I never would’ve had to hear her name. You don’t hurt the people you love in the ways that you hurt me. I wish I could say I don’t miss you. I wish I could trash talk you like ex’s are supposed to do, but no every time I hear a negative thing about you I’m always the first to defend you and I fucking hate that. I wish I could take it all back. Every kiss, every hug, every god damn thing but I can’t. It is there. And it’s on replay for me 24/7 and you can think whatever about me being so bitter about this and whatever. but my night terrors come rarely now and when they come it’s like the dreams I had of us all happy and fucking dandy are my worst nightmares. and that’s what fucks me up the most.
The letter I’ll never write you (via angellicsins)
