pretentious, inner ramblings.

I drink too much vodka and don't get enough sleep.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

I wish I was enough for you to love me, not just a drunken press of lips

[littlebrokenthoughts]

Your name tastes bitter on my tongue now. It stains my mouth, stains it with hate and broken promises, stains it like you stained my fucking heart.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

She is blonde. She is blonde and skinny. She is blonde and skinny and tall and pretty. And I am not. She is charming. She is charming and witty. She is charming and witty and one toss of glossy hair away from perfection. And I am not. She is everything you said you never wanted, but everything that you so obviously do. She’s the reason for the upturned corner of your mouth and the last thought in your mind before you fall asleep. She is everything that I’ll never be And everything that I am not.

I’m so sick of being second best.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

And I long for the day that the colour of your eyes goes back to just being the swirling brown of my morning coffee And the sweet smell of your skin fades away to become the barest flicker of a memory.

I long for the day I can truly forget you.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

You were the fireworks behind my closed eyes and the reason for every missed heartbeat. And now you pretend you don’t know who I am.

It’s been a month since you cheated and left.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

Because even after all you've done, I'd still rather bare the crushing weight of your arms around me, than the sickening emptiness I feel now.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

Some days I couldn’t give a fuck. Some days I really don’t care about you. But some days the memory of the glint in your eyes and the feeling of your legs tangled with mine is the only thing my mind can understand.

It’s been 340 hours since you left me and 322 hours since I found out you cheated.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

A week doesn’t seem long in theory. A mere handful of days and fleeting moments. They are tiny fragments, barely a glimpse, in cliché montage that is life. But a week without you felt like forever. A week of fake smiles and assuring everyone that I couldn’t be more fine.7 days of skipping every Oasis song that played because they remind me so much of you it hurts.168 hours of missing the way your hips fit almost perfectly between my legs and the feeling of your breath against my neck .10080 minutes of her name playing through my mind on a loop and wondering everything you ever told me was a lie. 604800 seconds of dwelling, of regretting, of wondering what the fuck I could have done differently to make you stay, to make everything go back to the way it was. But that first week is over now. And soon, the next one will be over and the one after that too. And each week will get easier, I know it will, it has to.But right now, when your stupid smirk still haunts my dreams, these weeks are really goddamn hard.

It’s been 198 hours since you left me. And 170 since I found out you cheated.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

I want to hate you. I want to hate you so badly. I want to despise every inch of you, to feel a burning fire of disgust ignite within me when you so much as inch into my thoughts. I want to pick out every one of your flaws, to hurt you and humiliate you so much that you even feel a fraction of the pain you’ve caused me. I want to see crash and burn and to be able to sit back and laugh, to announce that karma’s a bitch and that you deserved it. But every time I hear your name, my heart still beats that little bit faster. And every morning I wake up, I still hope it was all just a bad dream. I want to hate you. But I can’t. And that makes me feel so fucking sick.

It’s been 127 hours since you left me. And 99 hours since I found out you cheated.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

Everything hurts. Or maybe it’s numb. I can’t tell anymore, nor do I care. You lied to me. You lied about us, our future, our dreams. You lied about loving me. My whole kingdom has spectacularly crumbled around me and there you stand in the centre of the ruins with a smug grin and the left over dynamite. And here I lie, the fallen princess, dignity and confidence destroyed and left only now with pathetic, useless memories and the image of your lips against her’s burned into my mind.

It's been 31 hours since you left me. And 9 hours since I found out you cheated.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

My boyfriend just broke up with me and I don’t even have the energy to turn my despair into something beautiful or worthwhile. All I can do is cry.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

I'm sick of boys who pretend they care. Who lift you up to the clouds only to let you fall to the ground a moment later. Boys who kiss your forehead and promise everything will be okay. Boys who make you open up and show every one of your flaws, only to wish you hadn't. I'm sick of boys who use me. Who grab at my waist until it grabs my friend's attention. Boys who bite my neck when the girl he used to love walks by. Who fill my every crack with love and passion but only until 'she' realises what she's missing. I'm sick of boys who confuse me. Who tell me they're in love but flirts with every other girl. Boys who hold my hand one day and walk past me another. Who bring light into my life but also with darkness and pain. I'm sick of boys who make me feel like my heart is breaking. Who's name makes me shiver but also makes me hurt. Boys who make me wish I could be someone else, just to make them happy. Who destroy my whole world, but don't even seen to notice.

Late night confessions in my mind.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

And then there’s the grey days. The days where sadness seeps into the cracks in my broken mind and fills up my entire body. The days where I feel alone in alone in a room full of people. The days where I lie, not sleeping but not awake, just existing. The days where my thoughts seem like an empty abyss, one which I’m constantly falling down. The days where no matter how much chocolate I eat, laughter I force, or air I inhale, the whole world seems a little bit darker

The grey days

[littlebrokenthoughts]

It feels odd. Not massively but in a way that lurks in the shadows at the back of my mind. See, you weren’t a big enough part of my life to cause me to breakdown. But you were enough to make me feel a little broken.

Its been one month since we gave up on us.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

I’m sorry that I’ll never be what you want.

I’m sorry I’m not her.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

But now the twinkling lights have dulled, the fairy dust has lost its sparkle, and for the first time I can see you for exactly what you are.

[littlebrokenthoughts]

I found out you’re using me today, yet I still can’t make myself hate you.

Yet another stage in the progression of heartbreak.