-itsalljustadream-:

I miss the girl who laughed. I missed the girl who looked at the upside of everything.
I miss the girl who was happy, and innocent, and free.
I miss the girl who would look in the mirror and not find every flaw.
I miss the girl who didn’t let others words bother her. I miss who I was. I hate who I am.

 And I’m pretty sure he misses that girl I used to be even more. And that kills me.

but you’re still here. And that hurts more than if you were actually gone.

genevieveolivia:

The cloud that can last weeks, months, years.

Getting out of bed is something you have to force.
You’re probably late because you couldn’t manage to do it until you didn’t have enough time to get ready.

Fighting with yourself all day long because there are a million…

i just don’t know what to do anymore.

I feel so lost and distant. Like this. I hurt and hurt, and feel everything, and yet nothing. And now I have a dirty big self-inflicted scratch down my wrist, because I won’t cut, but I had to bleed somehow. And while one person has noticed, the most important person, he won’t talk to me about it, just ignores it.

what will it take to show people i’m not well? 

Secret: The other night, about 2 weeks ago, as I lay in bed listening to him read, I persisted to scratch my arm in just about this spot, with my blunt (chewed) nails, until I had scratched the skin away. It didn’t bleed straight away, but it left a sizable scratch. It bled like this, though, the next day, and every day after that when I picked the scab away. It’s been over two weeks now, and it’s still there, though healing. It calms me down immensely to pick at scabs, and secretly, I am so proud of myself for having the determination to scratch my skin until it broke. 

Plenty of people have spotted it (it’s spring, and I ran out of bandaids) and ask ‘what happened to your arm’, to which I reply, oh, it’s just a scratch (which is the truth, though I’d never admit I’d done it intentionally). It gives me a little rush to withhold that information. 

I’m already thinking about doing it again somewhere different once this one heals. 

And I can’t believe no one has bothered to find out more. I can’t believe he didn’t even notice as I lie in bed scratching and scratching and scratching my arm, where a great big red and ugly sore ended up the next day… Goes to show how much attention he really pays. 

I think I’m over you. I still love your hugs, still like talking to you, but something changed. Perhaps it was the way you’d always drop anything for any girl who ‘needed’ you. Maybe the way you long for a girl of your own. Or even the silly little things you have been becoming infatuated with. I don’t know. But I’m definitely not in love with you anymore. And I feel free again, free to be with man who I loved first, who chose me. 

Mumford and Sons - Little Lion Man

It’s strange that I think the only time I’ll ever hear you say these words is when you’re singing along with this song, no matter how many times you’re actually in the wrong. It’s always my fault, isn’t it, my dear. 

And I’m pretty sure that until you can admit that you don’t know everything, that you’re not perfect, I’m going to grow more and more resentful. I don’t want to be that person.