Loving you shouldn’t make me want to cry. But it does. It does, and that breaks my heart.

By the time you've thought about relapse, you've already lost.

As you get older and grow up, you come to learn that there is nothing poetic or romantic about your pain and that all that time you spent waiting for someone to recognize your suffering and save you from yourself was nothing more than time wasted. No one notices because you are not special. No one talks to you about what you’re dealing with because you won’t tell them about it. No one realizes you are hurting because you pretend that everything is fine. You are no one’s responsibility but your own and the sooner you learn that the sooner you just might wake up and put the same kind of time and effort into yourself that you wish someone else would. The longer it takes you to do that, the more likely you’ll end up dead.

Please come back.

I'm not enough for you. I was never enough to make you stay and I won't ever be enough to make you come back. And, somehow, I have to learn to live with the fact that everything I am is nothing that you wanted. And it kills me. It just kills me.

I know you don't care about me, so why am I still wasting my time on you?

I think the only good thing that comes from heartbreak is the writing material.

I don't miss you.

You don't matter to me anymore.

Everyone I love leaves me. So why did I think that you'd be any different?

I never wanted anything more than to be your friend. Was that too much to ask?

I wonder how long it's going to be before you're not the first person I want to talk to in the morning and the last person I want hear from at night.

How is it possible that the people who are in my life the least affect me the most?

I miss you. Please come back.

My mistake was thinking you cared for me as much as I cared for you.

Silly girl.  You hand yourself over to people who you love, thinking they will love you in return.  'This time,' you say. 'This time they'll stay for sure.' But they never do.  And you never learn.

When did I become who I never wanted to be?