I love you
your problem
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@venusbeibii
I love you
your problem
Nothing hurts more than having flashbacks of all the things that broke you
after she falls in love don’t get lazy bruh. modify the things you did to get her, to keep her.
“I loved you so much that when you left, i understood. And i didn’t hold any grudges against your memory, and i didn’t want to wipe away our time, i just stood there in silence for months, trying to catch that breath you stole we first met. I missed you so much that when you came back, I smiled. And i didn’t ask no questions, and i didn’t call out no lies, i just stood there smiling for a minute, knowing that who you left that day, wasn’t the same person standing in front of you, about to break your heart.”
—
i n t e r tw i n e d
(via lauwauu)
“She now knows how to love herself now, because when you’re tossed to the side and you think there isn’t anyone else to love you, you begin to realize that self-love is so important.”
— (x)
Después de ti, no creo que nadie me vaya a gustar como tu. Después de ti, no voy a querer a nadie igual Después de ti, no voy a llorar por nadie Después de ti, no tendré otro amor igual Por qué después de ti, me siento como piedra
Una loca de amor (via dianaguardia)
Suddenly you’re 21 and you’re screaming along in the car to all the songs you listened to when you were sad in middle school and everything is different but everything is good.
(via flipsidepride808)
This makes me so happy
(via punchdrunklove)
If you are scrolling through Tumblr trying to distract yourself from something you don’t want to think about, or you’re looking for a sign. It is going to be okay. Just breathe. You are alive and you matter.
i reblog this everytime i see it because i always need it and figure others do toom
Accept it. He’ll never want you the way he wants her; He’ll never love you the way he loves her. If it came down to the two of you You know he would choose her in a heartbeat. It’s not fun being the other girl, is it? Let it in. Let yourself cry yourself to sleep until everything turns gray Let yourself die a little as you waste a day in bed. The only thing you can do is just Feel it. Now let it go. Let out the breath you’ve been holding, Because God knows why you’re still waiting for him When you know the only way you two could ever feel the same about each other Is if you were to move on and completely stop thinking about him. Let him go. He’s not yours, he never was, and he never will be And you have no reason to hold on to hope for something that will only break your heart in the end.
How to move on (via weaksorry)
She now knows how to love herself now, because when you’re tossed to the side and you think there isn’t anyone else to love you, you begin to realize that self-love is so important.
(x)
Unfortunately, the feeling of not being chosen doesn’t go away so easily. Day after day, you will feel empty. Your heart: hollow. Night after night, you will have tears running down your cheeks. Your mind will race, trying to find an answer for why he chose her instead of you. Was she prettier? Smarter? Funnier? Skinnier? Blonder, perhaps? You will be a complete mess and the more you look for an answer or reason for why he chose her, the less you will find. No reason will make you feel better; no answer will satisfy you.
(x)
He broke you. Perhaps you weren’t in love, but he stole a piece of your heart, leaving you a bit more cynical than before. He liked you. He wanted you. He might’ve even loved you. But he didn’t choose you.
(x)
"SHE"
The pronoun ‘she’ never really used to mean anything to me, it just existed like all of the other words we encounter throughout the day. When someone says ‘she’ or when you yourself say ‘she’, you are always talking about someone else.
When you’re the other woman the word ‘she’ can make your stomach churn, your skin crawl, and make your smile falter. The word ‘she’ can realistically mean so many people, but when you’re the other woman it always means the same person; and it’s never you.
I hate the word 'she’. 'She’ is in my way. 'She’ is more important than me. 'She’ has you. I’ve never even met 'she’ and I am already inclined to dislike her. 'She’ keeps you from replying to my texts. 'She’ keeps you from spending time with me. 'She’ is one of the luckiest people in the world.
But if 'she’ knew about me, then I would be 'she’ to her too.
He can talk about how much he hates his girlfriend, about how annoying or stupid or nagging she is. You feel so superior because you are his escape, you are the better option, the one he can be with by choice rather than obligation. The one he really wants. But then he says he had a good day with her, they had fun, he saw those beautiful parts about her that he used to love. And you’re right back down at the bottom, that thing kept to the side because you aren’t good enough to be the priority, the disposable one he can throw away at any minute. The other woman, never to be anything more, only at risk of becoming even less.
I tried for a long time…but you can only hold on for so long. And we both knew this was coming. We knew that things like this don’t last. So please find it in yourself to leave the past in the past- so that the next time I see you, we can talk about how happy we have finally become.
Poetry At Most (via poetryatmost)
CONFESIONES DE LA OTRA
Yo he sido la única. Y además he sido la otra. Pero cuando eres la otra, la sensación de superioridad que te llena el cuerpo es algo increíble e insuperable. Casi suficiente para tapar la vergüenza que no puedes ocultar de ti misma. Eres la mejor engañando a los demás. ¿Ser la otra? No te importa. Es que tú también lo estás usando a él. Claro. El problema es que no te lo crees ni tú misma. Pero sientes que el mundo está a tus pies y la lástima que sientes hacia la mujer de tu hombre es casi igual a la que en el fondo sientes por ti misma. Piensas que has ganado, porque aunque tienes que compartirlo, el hecho de que no sea solo para ella es maravilloso. Sientes que compartirlo vale más que no tenerlo. Y claro, las palabras bonitas y las promesas sin fecha de vencimiento te hacen sentir que no está tan mal lo que estás haciendo. Después de todo, no estás sola en esto. Te tratas de convencer a ti misma que él es el malo, él es el que está traicionando a su mujer. Tú solo lo estás ayudando porque lo quieres y porque sabes que algún día el va a estar solo contigo. Piensa otra vez. Si se lo hizo a ella contigo, te lo hará a ti con otra. Cuando piensas que eres la única, la principal, la oficial, y descubres que no lo eres, sientes que tu cuerpo se llena de llamas y quieres terminar con la vida de aquella que te lo quitó. Primero la culpas a ella: esa desgraciada que te arruinó la vida, que lo pervirtió, que se le lanzó encima. Luego, poco a poco, te vas dando cuenta que ella no es la que tiene la culpa. Tal vez ella sufrió mucho en su pasado y la única forma que conoce para sentirse llena, es a través del sufrimiento ajeno, y en este caso, el tuyo. Despacio, el dedo que la señalaba a ella como culpable, se va volteando hacia ti misma, hasta el punto en el que decides que la única culpable eres tú. Porque tal vez pasabas mucho tiempo estudiando y no le dedicabas suficiente tiempo a él, o porque esa noche no hiciste lo que te pidió por vergüenza o por miedo, o porque quizá tu propia inseguridad te traicionó y lo alejó. Le pides perdón mil veces. Y justo cuando crees que está a punto de disculparte y de que todo vuelva a la normalidad, es cuando te das cuenta que de verdad le diste todo lo que le podías dar, que al que no te quiera como eres no vale la pena quererlo, y te das cuenta que el único culpable es él. Y dejas de odiar a la otra mujer, y te dejas de odiar a ti misma. Dejas de querer quererlo. Dejas de pelear con la otra por su amor. Dejas de pelear contigo misma por su amor. ¿Para qué querías ganar el amor de alguien a quien ya habías perdido? Y cuando todo se acaba, la que era la única no confía más en los hombres. La traicionó el hombre que más había querido. Y la que era la otra no confía más en las mujeres, porque de alguna u otra manera ella sí tuvo la culpa. Y tampoco confía más en los hombres, porque piensa que todos son como él, que mientras felizmente tuvo dos, ella tenia miedo.
“Quién te quiera, siempre para ti estará. Quién te desee, siempre por ti luchará. Quién le importes, siempre por ti se preocupará. Quién te cele, siempre algo por ti sentirá. Sólo abre los ojos y date cuenta.”
— Stup