and would you (especially you) cry,
when I’m no longer here anymore
(via sighhhhhhh)
All you did was to selfishly take what I gave, feeding your happiness without a single care at all to anyone around you. To me. Because I want to feel happy too. But what was I to you at all, but someone to take for granted, someone that in your eyes has never done enough, despite yourself having no right to say so.
I just thought I meant a little more, or rather anything at all to you. But I stop myself every time, at the thought that maybe I deserved someone better.
to cope with some kind of unfulfillment
11 weeks ago was singly the worst day I’ve ever had. And after a day like that, other days up till now have seemed better, not because they were good, but just never as bad or worse than that one. That doesn’t mean things have been going exceptionally well, but a feeling of inexpressible emptiness overtakes everything else, which sometimes may actually be better than hate, than anger, than pain.
The realisation of emptiness though, breeds a longing for fulfillment. But not to forget that this emptiness was but a result of once being filled, feeling fulfilled, like a shirt that grows and expands when worn, and when not worn anymore, is left with a lacuna, a cavity of emptiness, larger than it was before.
This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.
fuck it all.
(Source: emilyfabeiro, via fuckmydickbitch)
fucking wish I had enough courage to end everything all at once
