I hate that i’m letting you ruin the excitement of going to uni.
I hate that I let you make me feel guilty for going to uni.
I hate that I let you believe that it’s my fault that we’re breaking up because I’m going to uni.
I hate that you don’t believe me when I say I probably won’t be able to move on if we break up this way.
I hate that I wait around for you to come home from a night out but you refuse to talk to me when i’m drunk.
I hate that I can’t break up with you first.
I hate that when I suggested (jokingly) that you will be banging some new girl in Tiger the week after I leave your reply was ‘Begrudgingly I will’.
I hate that I let you treat me like I do.
I hate that I’ve turned into the mug I always bullied my friends about being.
I hate how easy it was to fall in love with you and how hard it is to contemplate falling out of love with you.
Sometimes you look at me and it’s like you hate my guts. Like you wouldn’t give a fuck if I was dead or alive.
in 2 months, this will be my body.
so this is gonna be a depressing post. But over the last 9 months, I’ve discovered Love actually doesn’t exist. I was the Disney princess, rainbow and unicorns type before but now I’ve come to realise: Love is a disappointment, it will never be reciprocated in equal measures and no matter how much you try to believe that you’re in control. You’re not, it takes hold of you before you have a choice, before you can rationally weigh up the pros and cons of giving yourself completely to this individual. I always knew I would end up the crazy cat lady anyways.
my plans for being productive today..
… … …
I wish I looked like this.
(Source: fuck-yeah-funny-shit, via distinctmemory)