I thought I wouldn't cry over you anymore. I thought I would stopping cutting. I thought I would learn to move on soon. I thought I could get over you. I thought I could manage myself. I thought by telling you how I feel, I would feel better.
I was wrong. About everything.
Nothing matters to you anymore. You're moving on. There's no point in saying anything cause I would just be the stupid one.
My heart just broke again. Seeing those photos. Seeing how she's still flirting with you. You said you two weren't talking anymore. And now there she is thanking you for the churros you bought her with those kissey faces. It still hurts you know. It still hurts to think of you. It still hurts to wait for your replies. It still hurts to know that you're never coming back. It hurts to know that I'm going to work the same shift with you. It hurts to go through everyday, knowing that there's nothing much to look forward to.
I'm living for nothing. My existance is not appreciated. I'm very suicidal right now. I don't want to do anything. I have a test tmrw and here I am thinking about you, missing you like crap, heartbroken as fuck and writing about you. Just when I thought that it was time to move on, I fell harder. I broke harder. It hurts more. I'm pretty proud that I've survived 2 weeks without you. At the same time, I just wished I wouldn't have to suffer any longer. I'm tired of faking a smile. Convincing myself that I'm alright. Telling myself that I'll get through everyday. It's not fun to live a life like this.
Constantly reminding myself that you're gone. And also constantly reminding myself to buy a new blade. The old one is rusty as fuck and cutting will feel like shit cause you can feel the rust touching your skin. Then it gets very red and irritated and you hope that you wouldn't get an infection. I'm just.. broken. I have to stop dreaming about him cause it's killing me everyday.
You just texted me. Why? What's the point of it anymore? Just tell me you don't want to talk to me. Don't keep lying about how your GP is not over yet. I don't fucking know anymore. If I meant something, you would at least find some time to talk to me. If you have the time to be on instagram, you sure as hell have time to talk to me.
I tried every way to make you happy. Be on time when meeting you, talk as less as possible, anything. Anything that I know would piss you off, I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't even tell you how I feel about something I don't like cause I know you would get pissed off. I kept my problems to myself cause I know what are you going to say. The last time I told you about my problems, what did you do? You left me all alone at Clarke Quay at 2am when I really needed someone by my side. Please do not be mistaken guys. It was partly my fault cause I told him if he wanted to go home, he can just go. I can't even blame you cause it's my fault.
I guess I'm not good enough, not for you. Not for anybody.
I really wish I'll get hit by a car and lose my memory. Or just fall so badly that I hit my head and lose my memory. At least I won't remember about you anymore. At least I can start life a new. Tired of being a loser, tired of not being good enough, tired of being ugly, tired of being fat, tired of everything.