I thought time was beginning to heal the wound you left without explanation. Two years have passed since we spoke. When you left me on read I felt that was your way of saying it’s done. I’m not going to respond. Give up. I spent two years thinking of you, reminiscing, and wishing more than anything that I knew why it had to be this way. I missed you. I still miss you. I worried. Hoping you were okay. That life was treating you well and you were happy. I saw things and immediately thought of you. I still have all of our pictures together. Seeing them hurts too much most days. Every day I’ve had to stop myself from texting you because I felt you wanted me to go away. You weren’t going to explain anything or even say goodbye. That is why I haven’t said anything all these years. But don’t think for a second that I haven’t thought about you every fucking day. Do you know how bad it hurts knowing that instead of telling me what I did wrong, you’re sharing things here and making vague tags about me? I never once hated you for any of this. I never once thought badly of you, or spoke negatively of you. I was angry yes. But, more than anything, I was heartbroken. Nine years. Nine years were gone overnight. Nine years of laughs, memories, and growing. Just like that it was nothing but a memory. I’ve come to the realization that I will never know why. But do not act like you’re the only one hurting from this. You had a choice, you made the choice. I wasn’t given a chance to catch my breath before everything was pulled out from under me. You are not the only one hurting.
(via racdetalpromra)
(via gay-renae)
I am greatful for headphones for allowing me to listen to songs on repeat forty times without completely maddening other people.
(via melanch0liflower)
There is no slut shaming in this house, only slut encouragement
(via casual-kid)
