Delusions, confusions, hesitations, frustrations…

Joy, doubt, pain, anger, apathy…

I am sick of my own false romanticism and I am sick of my own heart sometimes. I am tired of making sense of everything and more of thinking everything should not have to make sense.

Why do I have to paint a beautiful picture? Like it was some kind of epic love story that can be told through time. It is not. It never was.

There are no words left unspoken. If you didn’t say what I wanted to hear, it wasn’t because you were not brave enough. It was because you have nothing to say. There were no unrequited feelings because it was really just apathy from the start. There was nothing to give up and no one to let go. There was no us. You never really wanted me to be a part of your life from the start.

There was no tragedy, drama or heroic act. Just plain and simple truth–you did not have the same feelings and you are not the person my heart remembers.

This is much more comforting, less heart-breaking to realize. I’ll leave it all at that.

Currently Playing: The Story of Us (Taylor Swift)

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