#muito lindo

[littlepuffy4ever]

Ugrhghge espero q não se incomode com esse ask eu só quero muito te mostrar isso que eu ganhei

Sim ta em português de Portugal mas a edição é tão bonitaaaa 🥹🫶

MEU DEUS RU AMEI ESSA VERSÃO MEU DEUSSSSSS

E tu nunca incomoda não se preocupaa

[megabegf]

[renunciei]

Olhe no espelho e sorria, tu tem um sorriso incrível que deve ser mostrado.

Coleções de um menino.

[kyluvsyi3w2]

I deserve more than this. I deserve someone who thinks of me for once before they think of themselves. That isn’t you. It never has and it never will be. I love you. And if I treated you as nonchalantly as you treat me, you wouldn’t have stuck around. So here we both are cuz you’re waiting for me to make you go, and I’m waiting for you to show up. We are both going to die waiting. Neither is a death worthy of dying. But still will die. And life will go on. And all will be as it was, as it always would’ve been. With abandon and no regard for anyone’s feelings. Not that you care, but I do. And I will. Until time ends. That’s not fair. I deserve more. More I will never get. For there isn’t anymore left for me to have.

[kyluvsyi3w2]

You get to be happy and get whatever this is. Who am I kidding, I know what this is. Utter despair, depression, envy. Despite literally everything, all the bad shit that has happened to you, you find a way to smile. Like a true genuine smile. One I’ve only known in glimpses for years. I’d give anything to have the blissful, joyful, avoidant, happy-go-lucky, go with the flow ignorance that you have. Even, and probably most importantly, my life. But I wouldn’t get peace not even in Heaven so… so I’ll stay here on Earth where I am witness to your unending, annoying, persistent joy. While I fight your demons, remember your past, and pay for her crimes. It is incredibly unfair. Life isn’t fair, hearts don’t choose, and so I’m stuck (admittedly a little bit self inflictingly so) here with you. Because while I’d rather be any where but here I don’t want to be anywhere without you. That love, that love you gave to her. I wish you had some left to give to me. But apparently you don’t like me that way and neither does your brother? And so it feels all my help has been given at the expense of me. Was there even much of me left to start with? Truthfully, I was already drowning. I met you and it felt like a dream come true. Which quickly turned into a tightrope walking pseudo nightmare. I don’t know how this ends exactly. Except with a lot of fucking tears. Wherever I go, know I will miss you so fucking much. I know it’s my fault for making you my everything and it’s your fault for taking it. We are both players in this sick, twisted lack of love loving game. It’s not fair. Not one fucking bit. But here I am and here I’ll stay. The death of me will be the end of “us” and so I hold on for dear life while my hands get rope burn and you tell me you’ll always love me. It’s not fair. It’s not. And I’m much too tired to hold shit together anymore.

[kyluvsyi3w2]

I wish you cared enough to look at me. I wish you cared enough to try. All I do is try. I have poured everything I have into being your friend, into helping you succeed. And you, you blame me every time we have an argument. And even if I was in the right if I want anything to be mended I have to be the bigger person. That’s not fair.

You tell me there are two sides to every story (I know that). You tell me I can’t wait around for people to say what I think they need to say (I know that). You just give your opinion because I’m talking to a person not a wall. I am talking to a wall. Because you don’t listen. You don’t take responsibility for your actions. You go back and forth on everything you ever claimed to be true like you have some sort of amnesia. But I, I remember, so you can’t fool me. You say sorry like it means something. It doesn’t mean anything at all.

I yell because you back me into a corner. I yell because you don’t listen when I’m quiet. I keep talking because I want it to be resolved and I can’t believe the words that are tumbling out of your mouth. I know I’m bossy. I know I’m difficult. I know I’m stubborn. I know it’s hard for me to see the grey in situations. But I didn’t need reasons. I didn’t need perspectives. I didn’t need opinions. I just needed empathy. I wanted you to say for once, without me having to tell you, “that sucks”. I wanted you to jump on the “no way girl that’s crazy!” train with me. Because God only knows how many times I’ve done that for you. I’ve held you while you’ve cried. I’ve listened to your same stories time and time again. I’ve validated your frustrations. I’ve attempted to calm your fears. And you, you claim to do nothing wrong. Meanwhile in my eyes you are always defending the other person. The people or situations that hurt me. And while that has value, there is a time and a place for it. Now was not the time or the place. You make me feel like I’m the bitch, like I’m always in the wrong, like I’m the one who needs to try harder. How could I try any harder? All I do is fucking try. And while I am sorry for screaming I’m not sorry for falling apart because no one can hold it together all the time. And before you say “I’m always like this, everyday,” I’m not. And even if I am it most certainly would be better if you actually thought before you spoke. If you actually considered my feelings. If you actually listened instead of looking for a place for your soapbox.

I’ve been holding the both of us up since October. I’m exhausted! You say you don’t have a crystal ball (I know that). And I have told you over and over again how I feel the most supported and what sort of comfort I’m looking for. When I ask why you can’t do that, all you do is give half ass excuses. Many of which directly contradict the things you accuse me of not doing. If you want me to accept you as you are, just as you are, then you have to do that for me too. In this scenario I don’t get to get offended, you don’t get to tell me to try to not get so upset, and no one can fault anyone for anything. And in the other case, the adult one, we listen to each other. We seek to understand. Often the problem isn’t there on the surface, but rather a deeper rooted fear. In these tough conversations, in these tricky moments we need to find a middle. Any relationship, no matter the type, has compromise, some sacrifice, and a lot of common ground.

I can admit to my wrongs and take accountably for my actions that contribute to our fights. I can promise I’ll try to do better next time. I can work on myself, and only on myself, because that’s the only person I have control over. What I can’t do, what I won’t do (anymore anyway) is take the blame for your wrongdoings, for the role you play, for your actions. You’re right I’m not you. And as such you are not me. So you do not get to stand there and disregard how your actions make me feel. Because that is my truth. Just like I cannot stand there and disregard your feelings caused by my actions, because that is your truth. I may be naive but I think our individual truths can co-exist with each other.

For that to be true though you have to comprise. You have to try. You have to own up to your part in things. I know you say you don’t listen to anybody on Earth, but you and I both know that’s not true. So please, for the love of God who doesn’t even exist, do not twist my reality, do not make me the villain of every story. Cuz I don’t know if you know this but, you aren’t a saint. So stop trying to play martyr. You do, do something. Even if it feels like nothing to you, it’s something to me. That’s what matters. Any emotionally mature, rational person would agree with that statement. But you, my dear friend, are neither of those things. And as such I should probably stop expecting you to change. Stop expecting you to be capable of being my shoulder to cry on. My confidant, my best friend. You’re right you’re different, and that’s not bad. And that doesn’t mean you can’t change. You just don’t want to.

I can think of many reasons why. But I can’t know for sure unless you say, which you won’t. So I’ll do my best not to speculate. So I’ll do my best to step back. I’ll do my best to maintain a calm voice. I’ll try to grab your hand gently and say, “Hey I appreciate you trying to help me. Help’s not want I need right now. I want you to listen and to support me even if you think I’m wrong. That’s what will help me feel better in this moment.” And that is all than, more than, I can say. The rest is up to you.

What I said in my rage was right if you can’t be the support I need when I need it then I can’t ever talk to you. Because I can’t nor am going to pretend to be fine, when I’m not. I believe whole heartedly that you wouldn’t like me if I treated you the way you treat me. You’d feel dismissed, unimportant, and devalued. But I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to treat you that way. I’ll be the first person to tell you I’m quick to anger. I’ll be the first person to tell you I feel all my emotions immensely and extremely. I’ll be the first person to tell you I’m a major crier. I know my faults, I know my shortcomings, I know what I can work on, do you? And even if you do, do you have the strength to do so? You don’t. Because truly you are a coward who runs away from anything that requires feelings or potentially being framed as “the bad guy”.

For the record, I’m never trying to paint you as the bad guy. I’m just trying to see if there is someone in there who has the maturity and the guts to be a better version of himself. I’ve done so much more for you than anyone else ever would’ve. I know you’re grateful. I know you love me. Still, it’s in moments like these where I feel unseen, unwanted, and unloved. When I feel like you aren’t really listening, aren’t understanding the gravity of the situation (in my eyes), the only solution that seems available is telling you to leave.

I don’t want you to leave. I hope you know that. You can if you want to. Just know I don’t want you to. If you’re tired of my yelling, go, I’ll understand. If you don’t have the ability to put your pride aside for a second to admit that you did something wrong, I get it, but I blame you. Like you said there are two sides to every story, and somewhere in-between lies the truth. Let us find the truth together. Or at the very least let us not leave like this. Because that would most certainly crush me. Simply more than anything else I can imagine.

[kyluvsyi3w2]

I hate you.

I hate that you play me like a fiddle.

I hate that you throw all my help away like it’s trash.

I hate that you brush things off with excuses no woman would ever get away with.

I hate that I feel like I do everything around here.

I hate that I care about you more than you even care about yourself.

YOU ARE EXHAUSTING!!!!

I hate you.

I hate that you’re handsome.

I hate that I love you.

I hate that you’ll never pick me.

I hate that you pretend to see me as no more than a “little sister”.

I hate your jokes that actually are just insults.

I hate that you have a shitty memory.

I hate that you try to save me from things I’m not asking to be saved from…

But when I ask to be saved from something, beg even…

You “can’t” do it.

I hate you.

I hate that you are here.

I hate that I miss you when I’m not.

I hate that you make me so emotional.

I JUST WANT SOME FUCKING PEACE!

I hate you.

I hate that I need you.

I hate that I love you most of all.

I hate that I care.

I hate me.

I hate it here.

I hate my life.

I HATE YOU!

I hate that you can be blissful.

Or is ignorance?

I hate that through it all you can be happy.

Or is it avoidance?

I’d give a million dollars to avoid or be ignorant to anything that hurts or haunts me.

But I don’t have that luxury.

I hate participating in the “Suffering Olympics” with you.

I hate that you won’t understand.

I hate that you don’t think of me.

I hate when you don’t listen to me, even when we both know I’m fucking right.

I hate it when you act dumb.

I hate it when you play matryr.

I hate when you say sorry like it’s some magic fucking eraser for all of your crimes.

I hate you.

I hate that I love you so.

I hate that I can’t, won’t let go.

I hate that I can’t envision a life without you anymore.

When I’m positive you’d be perfectly fine without me.

I hate that I care about you, anything, or anyone at all.

Because my care has brought me nothing but heartbreak, anger, and loneliness.

I hate you.

I hate me.

I hate my life.

I hate it here.

I hate how I could never really hate you.

Life’s not fair, but you’re the most unfair part by far.

I fucking hate you.

[kyluvsyi3w2]

God I love you! Like I’ve never loved anyone or anything else in this whole fucking world. In my whole fucking life! I shouldn’t love you. I shouldn’t. Hearts don’t choose. True love doesn’t ever end. So maybe I’ll always be here wishing you could’ve picked me, day dreaming about your tattoos, and remembering what it felt like to be admired by you. The kisses, the intimacy, the days in the pool, the pet names, being the little spoon. All those small, huge things MATTERED! You saw me. You did. I know that’s what makes letting go of you so goddamn hard! You saw me and said, “All of you is good.” Not in those exact words. But with words, your words. And actions. I think just being next to you is always going to make my central nervous system calm down. It’s like a reset for my breathing, a stop for my fears. You were, you are, my lightbulb. Just like she was your lightbulb. I have done, and probably would do, damn near anything for you. But it’s too much isn’t it? I know it is. I’m just not ready. So I’ll hold you while I search for the one. The one I’ve been desperate to find for years. Yet, still, and probably (definitely) always there you will be. In the back of my mind. Flooding my memories. Taking over my heart. Making my world “one little, mucho, crazy, né?” “Siiiii!” To be haunted by you is both a gift and a curse that I’m happy to hold. “Confirmed.”