ang£l £nergy

bad bitches & sad bitches welcomed!

[smileyangels]

Hi.

The last time I logged into here was November of 2019 to write one last quote . I’ve randomly logged back in and I’m at awe at all the attention my quotes have been getting. It’s been almost 3 years since I’ve wrote that stuff and damm guys life really changes that boy who I thought I felt this for was just a silly little school thing and I’m in such a better relationship with someone who I actually love and know the meaning for😭I hope you all heal and one day log back in years later and feel the same way I do❤️

[smileyangels]

“I’m here to say it gets better. It really does. Months ago I was sitting staring at myself in the mirror tear stains adoring my cheeks and was wondering what she had that I didn’t. Crying at the loss of him, at the loss of our love, at the loss of us. Never would I have imagined there would’ve been a day where the thought of him doesn’t cross my head. And now here I am. I’ve thought about him after a very long time. And I’m at peace. A strange peace, a weird one. One where I’m numb to feeling anything but in a good way. I’m concluding this journey by saying I did my best. There was no more I could’ve done, no more I could’ve said, no other way I could’ve acted with him. I put my all into a man who simply didn’t want and appreciate it. Into the devil in disguise. I’m here to say thank you for the lesson but from the deepest part of my heart fuck you.”

[grieve-and-bereave]

“and as i stood there in the funeral home, beside you, resting my hand on your cold one, my head on your chest, which was cold and still, i couldn’t stop thinking, how could someone who was so full of life and light be gone, just like that”

— it isn’t fucking fair

[grievingyoung]

“Somedays I feel overwhelmed that he doesn’t exist. Like, just very suddenly one day he vanished and I will never see him, touch him, hug him, nothing. And it is just very weird because he was just alive. Like, I don’t get it.”

— - Grieving Young.

[zenwords]

“Grief is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”

— Jamie Anderson, via tinybuddhaofficial 

[dolores-hazy]

When it becomes an overt game--hide and seek, freeze tag, Simon Says, push and pull--I will sit out. The older I get, the less interest and energy I feel like giving to such, where you can't win for losing--your patience, your dignity, your sanity along the way.

No thanks, I don't play

[longnightsandsambuca]

If I could go back to March 12 2019, I would have stayed home that night. I would have never locked eyes with you, and I would have been just fine. I wouldn’t know about a man who would keep me up countless nights. Some nights were filled with laughter and joy and sparkle and you, but most nights weren’t filled with anything, and it haunted me. No joy, no sparkle, and definitely no you. It was what wasn’t that broke me.

[my-writemind]

I just him in the wrong time, wrong place, wrong universe.

Everything within is screaming to keep carrying on, to try and make this work, but exhaustion is beginning to win out. I am so tired. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for us to love one another when all logic dictates that we should live happily ever, but the universe seems to have it out for us and babe, I think it’s time we lay our weapons down. Maybe in another place we were meant to be but my shaking hands and your red eyes are telling me all I need to know about our fate where we are; I have to let you go.

[smileyangels]

It’s something different falling for a broken boy. The broken pieces pierce your skin. Your emotions. You. The constant mood swings, the distant behaviour when he’s hurt, the “I don’t care” attitude when you know that in that moment he cares the most. Broken boys are hard to tame. Society romanticises it as if we can walk in and make everything okay. I always assumed it to be that. And it’s not. But I guess when you’re falling for someone that’s something you have to push through.

[antonybridgertons-deactivated20]

“and when the devil walks in you will not recognize him. there are no black horns, no red wings, no giant pitchfork in his hand. he looks just like any other man. he has dark, enchanting eyes that will pull you in close so his lips can spit sickly sweet venom and tell you all the best, wicked lies that you want to hear. his hands will grasp and grab at your neck taking the air from your lungs. but to you he is just caressing; his touch light and fiery. you do not know he is ruining you. and when he’s standing over your lifeless, drained, empty body with a smirk of satisfaction and a low chuckle rumbling in his chest; you will not notice. for the devil is always in disguise and you won’t recognize him until it is too late.”

— e.k. | he’s a monster, baby, can’t you see?

[wishing-for-deathx]

Being with him is like being high, it feels amazing when he’s around. And when he leaves, he always leaves, I don’t know if or when I might see him again. Inevitably, the high starts wearing off. The reality sinks in and I realize what just happened yet again. And the sad part is, I am always waiting for him to come back. Always. And I know that someday, he won’t.

I’m addicted to him and he is addicted to drugs.

[insteadofdisappearing]

“no more apology texts. no more reckless highway speeding. no more scribbled poetry in the back of spanish class. there is nothing left to lose. there is nothing left for you. you haven’t seen me since i dyed my hair and it’s nice to have something you didn’t get to ruin. i’m dressing different too and lipsticking my way out of the girl you tore apart. i can finally breathe easy. i can finally be grateful that i never really meant it when i kissed you. look, it’s me without you. look, i’m doing just fine. look, goddamn it, i’m lighter than i’ve been in months. there are seven billion people on the planet. i don’t think you matter so much anymore.”

— I MET SOMEONE WITH YOUR NAME AND DIDNT FLINCH // s. osborn

[wishing-for-deathx]

I might have ended it, but he left me first. He might not have used his words, his actions were enough. I had to leave. It was a matter of self respect.

But I really didn’t wanna leave, I was forced to.

[spilledinkandtears]

“I cry for the future we lost But I’ll forever be grateful for the past and memories we have and share. I mourn for what could have been. But I’ll smile for what was. To have been embraced the way I was, held, loved and sheltered… I’ll forever treasure every single moment. We might never see each other ever again but your face, smile, laugh, scent and warmth will forever be an imprint left on my heart.”

— To Love is to be happy and free.(Via @spilledinkandtears)

[smileyangels]

“It fucking hurts to think that at a point I was all you could think about. That I MEANT something.. keyword meant. I used to mean some thing. I was something special to you, and now you couldn't care less. But for her you probably could. If you got her again you'd probably treat her so good, so good. When baby she never will love you as much as me. Baby she will never stay awake thinking about the brown of your eyes or the feeling of the scruff of your beard in her fingertips. Cause baby, I love you more than the woman who bought you into this world, and the only thing that I was ever certain about between us was my feelings for you, and trust me.. she could never even love you half as much.”

— fuck you cause it fucking hurts.

[smileyangels]

Sexual abuse. I got sexually abused at the age of 10. By my uncle. No stranger on the street, no creep next door, by someone who I had once loved and trusted. I was 10. No assets, just a then chubby naive little girl. I was 10. And he was touching me in places that mommy told me was wrong. It was a dark room and his hands came onto me out of no where. I was sexually abused. I was 11 when I told mommy. 11 when the court deemed there not to be enough evidence. 11 when my whole family turned their back on me cause somehow a 10 year old knows enough about sexual activity to lie about it. Now I’m 17. Since I was 10 I hated sleeping with the lights off. My room light has to be on, or a candle or the hallway light. There has to be enough light in my room. Considering I’m 17 I spoke to my counsellor about it. You know what she said? She said it’s a mild case of ptsd. PTSD carried on from the age of 10, the fear of being touched by something or someone in the dark has accumulated from the abuse. So to every rape victim, sexual abuse victim, physical emotional or mental abuse victim. I stand by you. Me and my trauma stand by you. It’s taken alot to write this. And hopefully you all embrace your story fiercely not in fear. You are the strongest woman alive.”

— thank you for reading.

[smileyangels]

“They’re there. People come and go, feelings ignite and fade, but the drugs and alcohol stay. The alcohol is there, ready to run it’s self through your veins and into your bloodstream, ready to drown you into paradise. You feel untouchable, you feel unreachable, you feel unhurtable. As if life’s too fun for your heart to be broken. The weed is there, ready to take your mind miles away, miles and miles away from your life, from the hurt, from all the sorrow and into a numbness, a blissful numbness that blocks out all the hurt and fills your entire body with this fuzzy feeling that lights you up. I guess what I’m trying to say is kid, they say don’t abuse substances to heal your hurt, your pain, your depression, your sorrow, your grief. But I say use it, use it till you lose yourself, time you’re ready to become a new. Use it because once this version of you is gone an unhurtable one is created.”

—this used to be my mindset. please as much as you may relate.. get help. substances never help the healing but create a monster.. it kills your inner good. don’t let the devil win this one, please.