Sometimes you have to save yourself

*dry food crunches*

Fifty years from now, if you knocked on my door and told me that you needed me, I would still drop everything I had to help you. Fifty years from now, if you knocked on my door and told me you were ready to try again, I would be ready to try again. Fifty years from now, if you knocked on my door and told me that you loved me, I would love you back. I know that I will want you for the rest of my life, so I’m hoping that in fifty years from now when you knock on my door, it will only be because you misplaced the key.

I can’t describe that feeling I have It’s like I’m extremely upset and emotionally damaged But it only hits me in waves One second I’ll be laughing with my friends But suddenly I’ll feel like the whole world is crashing down on me Like what the hell is wrong with me How can I go from perfectly fine to sobbing hysterically in my room

Do you ever feel that rage in your heart? Wanting to scream and shout but you just can’t? You literally feel the anger rising and you’re trying to control yourself from doing anything stupid?

You think you know me and I think you should think better

She doesn't want to talk to you, that girl with the big heart  who would have answered your messages, who would never have let your calls go to voicemail, who would have done anything  to talk to you,  to explain that there had to be  something to be done to fix what was, she doesn’t want to talk to you. She cried behind closed bathroom doors and tore out her own heart trying to figure out what she had done to cause you to leave, and then she learned, that you were always manipulating, that every time you called her little it was because that was how much you thought of her, that every time you said “Oh, sweetie” in that tone - don’t ask, you know what tone I mean - was just to make yourself feel superior   That sweet girl, who loved you  with all the scraps she had, she doesn’t want to talk to you, because sugar coated girls  with hearts bigger than their chest  can’t survive relationships with flies like you, flies who are craving something sweet  to fly around and eat  when really you should be hovering  over the big shit you took on that girl She doesn’t want to talk to you because she is gone, devoured and spit back out by you and now here I am, cold and calloused, being told by family that I am too bitter to make anyone ever fall in love with me, but my experience with love is not worth recasting and reenacting because the last lead was too good, he was too convincing that he loved  so that no one could tell he was acting, and you know what?  I don’t want to talk to you either.