This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

It’s Sunday morning and here I am laying in bed staring at the ceiling with tears in my eyes. It feels like I’ve been laying here for months. I’ve been here so many Sundays. Actually, I’ve been here regardless if it was Sunday. The day of the week doesn’t matter. It’s the continuous pattern. I was blinded by love.

I’m broken.

I literally feel my heart ripped into pieces and I don’t know where to go from here. I mean, this can only get better, right? Things can only start looking up from here? I put these question marks because I’m so unsure of it myself.

I’ve been here a number of times with heartaches. Oh my god, my friends know this. I’ve been hurt so many times by unworthy “boys” (not even men), but nothing like this. Nothing feels the same as this pain. It really feels like there’s a knife in my heart and I can’t stop bleeding. I’m bleeding everywhere. I’m bleeding onto this blog, pooring out my feelings. I feel ruined and torn apart. I fell in love for the first time at 25. I didn’t want to love anyone else, but you. I could have loved you forever, but forever ended up being so short.

And now here I am over a year later…..

I’m just trying to pick the pieces back up to my heart and move on quietly. I don’t want revenge. I don’t want to get even. I just want to fix my heart and be happy.

I just wish honesty was on the table. Everyone deserves the truth, but I guess what goes around comes around.

Maybe I deserved this. Maybe I needed to be completely ripped apart one last time. I just don’t know what hurts more …..

The fact that you act like you don’t give a fuck about me, or that my mother has to sit here and watch me cry everytime….

She said this is the most I’ve ever cried. Over anyone. I hope it’s the last. πŸ’”

I’m exhausted. πŸ˜”

the princess saves herself in this one -amanda lovelace

2 thoughts on “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Website Built with

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: