I’m Choosing Your Happiness
People say to live with no regrets. But, I do. I regret leaving. I regret walking away from you. I regret it all. I’m angry, just so angry, at no one besides myself. And I don’t know what to do about it.
People say to live with no regrets. But, I do. I regret leaving. I regret walking away from you. I regret it all. I’m angry, just so angry, at no one besides myself. And I don’t know what to do about it.
This fairytale was fallacious. There was no truth to it. I fell in love with a man who was a figment of my imagination.
The dictionary defines happiness as “the state of being happy.” That’s a definition. A formal definition that fails to encompass the emotions, sweet sensations, and tell all tales that evoke sense, touch, and taste.
I’d rather be lonely than ever be in a relationship with a person like you ever again.
Pain leaves a permanent mark, a tattoo inside the brain that seems to never fade.
I’ve spent the last year believing that there was something wrong with me because I had hopes of a stable love with a complicated lover. I’ve spent the last year holding on.
It’s me. I know I am the last person you want to talk to.
You are in control. Do not let what others think or say determine your future.
No one can change who you are. You are in charge of your life. You do not need to be fixed.
Girls swear. Get the fuck over it.