silentregrets

Dear Universe,

Nothing is real. If I keep telling myself that nothing is real then nothing can hurt me. Nobody can break my heart. Nothing can make me cry. Nothing is real.

You went from being my favorite person to a complete stranger in an instant.

I’ve been trying to keep myself busy to forget about you and it’s been working...for the most part. But sometimes, whether it’s late at night or when I’m studying alone in the library, you manage to slip through the cracks for a moment.

you spend the night with her

Watching you talk to everyone else but me makes me feel ugly on the inside.

I made myself sad by falling for you. I played myself. How could I be so stupid? Goddamn I’m so stupid.

I’m jealous and you’re not even mine.

Perhaps one day I’d tell you what it was like to love you in secret for all those years. Perhaps one day you’d tell me you’ve always felt the same.

Your writings are so beautiful. Makes me imagine it was my crush saying them. But that'd never happen.

I miss you so much. I’ve been keeping myself busy and it’s not as hard as it used to be. But then I get moments like this when all I want—more than anything in the world—is to have a conversation with you. All I want is another moment with you.

I bet she’s sitting next to you right now and you still feel so alone.

I wish you loved me as much as you love getting high.

It’s midnight and lonliness is wrecking you. You sit in the dark side of your room and ponder on whether it’s because you’re a terrible person or simply because you are nobody’s priority. Or second choice. Or third. Or fourth...or fifth...

Birthdays are depressing when you wish that you were never born.