I broke his fucking heart.
That seems to be my thing.
Find a good person, realize I have something amazing.
And throw it away.
What kills me is that I don’t feel a thing.
I’m aware of the facts.
He’s amazing.
He’s different.
He’s genuine.
He’s going to get his heart broken.
I told him not to fall in love with me.
I told him I’m not good.
In fact, I’m the worst person I know.


What I’m told

One of the three main things I think about.
It’s always on my mind.
They said it would stop.
They won’t tell me when.
They always say it will stop.
I don’t mind, it doesn’t bother me.
It doesn’t even scare me anymore.


Down 10lbs…it’s happening again. Slowly becoming addicted.

"We loved each other, just never at the same time."

Anonymous (via villere)

(Source: desmom, via candycolouredfrown)

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