fall apart in parts

I'm just not very good at this

not you

I'll never let my pride down for you

Dear Abigail

A complete wipe out. Well, what can I say. I guess I will never really grow out of it. It's just... Moet. My youth may be dwindling but my reckless spirit isn't quite burning out. Well, we all knew this day would come. Things never go well for long with me. A string full of lovely days back-to-back since thy disappearance. The calm before the storm. I can't even pen down certain glimpses of the disasterous night simply because I don't remember any of it. Swell. I can't tell if you are just awkward or if you're really not the kind to bear ugly grudges. the only good thing that came out of it was restored faith in this, on my part anyway. Sad to say this isn't the first time something of this nature has occurred and you continue to surprise me by still remaining here. Though that was my last chance. Perhaps the hardest part of all is that I can't guarantee that there won't be a repeat performance. One can only hope. // I typed too soon. A grudge is a grudge no matter how ugly. I wonder if I'm being too easy on myself. If I am not deserving, then neither are you. Every time I think this is it and I can finally feel what I've always longed for, you ninja over me with your lame life. It pains me to admit that I see shades of that fight in you. It's disgusting. If I have to go through that kind of emotional abuse again then my theory that relationships are stupid would have been proven right. After all, I'm always right.

a heartbreaker right from the start

it was never either of us

then you remind me why

I may never love you

a future that might never exist

I'm all better just thinking about

when you come home, I'm gonna kick you out

then you show up with that stupid grin

and I just let your love in

I want you, endlessly

I'm not surprised at how I feel. A lull in the weekend. These blinding lights been nothing to me. I miss you, quite dearly. It's not really the number of days so much as it is the thought of the distance between us. "Why do you pretend you don't care?" Those overused words struck me like a chord. Maybe it's the time we've spent that's really fostering these feelings of warmth and other gay things inside me. Finally, the release of thy hormones and the illness that makes me a crabby person. I am too quick to threaten, I know. But it's only because I know you won't let it get that far. Not now anyway. It makes me really really mean. I don't know. I miss how you take up more than half of my tiny bed, the playful and increasingly violent fights we get into on the wet streets outside my gate, the irritating way you lumber so noisily down the stairs on our escape route and the way you cajole me when I throw one of my meaningless, completely random fits. Damn it. One more week and I'll be free to live back in my head, dreaming of our parisian adventure. It's The History Of Love that's making me this way, I know it. Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a house opposite a girl who no longer exists. It gets me every fucking time. Funny how neither of us exists anymore and yet I still have to deal with so many fucking consequences. Or maybe, it's just me that doesn't exist anymore. Not in that world anyway. Perhaps it still exists, just without me and because I am watching as an outsider that I get these bitchy looks and sneers. Probably also because they're allowed to show that they hate me now... must've been how I made her feel. Hmm. To be frank, I'm happy I don't exist anymore. It has let me see so much of the worlds I've missed whilst residing only in that one concentrated bubble. It really helps me put into perspective what I have and sadly also, what I don't have.

You gave me your answer, goodbye

Now I'm all on my own tonight

we're not blind

I am so fucking over this bullshit