Everything is not lost, nor is it found. Love is never lost, nor is it ever found. It is just there. They say that love is not a feeling, but an ability. That love is just something we do. I only meant to love and be loved. But with love comes pain. And pain creates destruction of love.
I only wanted to love, and be loved.
I find myself getting so angry. Angry at all the men who 'done me wrong,' angry at myself, angry at my friends for drifting off into their own lives without me, and even more angry at society. I cannot believe I allowed myself to get caught up in the glitter and gold love is supposed to bring. I cannot believe I let myself believe that he was different. That maybe I had a chance at happiness. But I must admit every time I get to that point in a relationship I get scared. I want to get married and baby makes three and all that jazz, but when does that happiness last? Every couple I see is miserable. I wouldn't want to turn into the nagging bitch...but I wouldn't want to be that girl that just gets walked all over. I guess I just don't know what I want. I did at one point and I thought I had it all. We were practically living together and going on three years. But I could not save him from the demons within. I could not clean up the skeletons in my own closet and forgive him for his. And that was the end of that.
Crazy thoughts. I'm losing my mind. Something has snapped. I hate liars. I hope he calls. I hope he doesn't call. Cigarette. I wish I could just call him and pretend like it didn't end and that I didn't know what he was talking about. I'm not that brave. I still have some pride left. I should not have accepted his dreams and hopes for the both of us as if they actually meant something. I should not have let myself fall for THAT. My standards need some editing. I wish that I could sit here and not think about it. I doubt he even gives a shit.
I don't even care anymore. Even though I do.