My mother warned me about beautiful men who might break my heart. But she forgot to mention that if they were drunk and they got angry, they might break my bones too.
Being ghosted sucks.
I was first, but she is still with you, so I guess that makes me the other woman.
Up until yesterday, I was fine.
I don’t hate you; I can’t.
Sometimes the things that are most toxic can make us feel our brightest, give us the happiness everyone craves.
I once read somewhere that loving someone is giving them a gun and trusting they won’t pull the trigger. But you did, didn’t you? Was it on purpose? I know that my shot wasn’t, but maybe you didn’t even feel that graze.
I like hanging out with you, is that bad? I like you. But that really doesn’t matter, does it?
I feel abandoned and alone and that boy didn’t text me back again and it hurts more than it should and if I now tell you that I am not okay and that I need you and you turn me down, well, not sure my heart could take that.