I’m Choosing Your Happiness
People say to live with no regrets. But, I do. I regret leaving. I regret walking away from you. I regret it all. I’m angry, just so angry, at no one besides myself. And I don’t know what to do about it.
Writer
People say to live with no regrets. But, I do. I regret leaving. I regret walking away from you. I regret it all. I’m angry, just so angry, at no one besides myself. And I don’t know what to do about it.
This fairytale was fallacious. There was no truth to it. I fell in love with a man who was a figment of my imagination.
The dictionary defines happiness as “the state of being happy.” That’s a definition. A formal definition that fails to encompass the emotions, sweet sensations, and tell all tales that evoke sense, touch, and taste.
I’d rather be lonely than ever be in a relationship with a person like you ever again.
You feel worthless because he has made you feel this way.
Pain leaves a permanent mark, a tattoo inside the brain that seems to never fade.
I’ve spent the last year believing that there was something wrong with me because I had hopes of a stable love with a complicated lover. I’ve spent the last year holding on.
Never wait around for a fuckboy to grow up; never wait around for a fuckboy to get his priorities straight. Focus on yourself.