Jaeu

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2010-06-08 03:20:02 (UTC)

Breathe out, so I can breathe you in.

Apparently you're too busy. You're too busy to text me, to
email me, to talk to me. You're far too busy to give a shit
about me. I'm sure i've said it before, and i'm sure i'll
have an emotional week and contradict myself completely,
but fuck you.

No more crying over you, no more feeling like shit because
of you. If you can't be bothered to take a minute out of
your precious fucking day to send me a text asking if i'm
okay, or what i'm doing then fuck you. I'm sick of
practically reserving myself for you, for not wanting
anything but you.

Sure, looking back over the last 8 years from when we first
met, it's been pretty rocky and pretty much not happening
with the whole relationship thing, and i'm not just talking
about us, i'm talking about with anyone. When I really sit
down and think about it, it kinda makes perfect sense to me
that I was saving myself for you. I kinda believe the
whole, everything happens for a reason thing too, not to
the extent that you do, but still I feel that we happened
for a reason.

Well now that reason is well and truly fucked, maybe I had
a part to play in the fucking up. You basically told me you
didn't know who I was anymore, that you couldn't talk to me
and how we used to be super close. About two weeks before
you told me this, I was hooked on listening to Let This Go
by Paramore, I still am.

I kinda feel like i've vented all my anger in that first
part, now i'm more annoyed that you don't care and haven't
been in touch. Infact I think the last time we talked was
about 10 days before I went to turkey, which would put us
at almost a month without talking. I've text you a few
times, in which you've basically said text or call me when
you finish work, and of course you're asleep so you don't
answer. The best part is you don't text me back in the
morning saying sorry you missed my text or call.

You're actually a complete cunt, you fucking wriggled your
pretty little way into my heart and used me like a peice of
shit. Why did you have to be my first, of all people, why
couldn't you of just been some random fuck that I wouldn't
have to care about.

If everything could ever feel this real forever, If
anything could ever be this good again. The only thing i'll
ever ask of you, you've got to promise not to stop when I
say when.

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