Nothing is ever really easy. In one way or another, it’s difficult. if its easy, you’re probably doing it wrong.
But in the end, it’s almost always worth it. If its not worth it, than its at least a memory made.
I want to hate him. I mean, I should right? He fucked me over. He screwed it up. He ruined everything. But somehow, all I see in him is all of our long talks and our future plans and that smile. That smile and those eyes, and yep I’m done for. Hating him isn’t really an option anymore. I deserve so much better. But I don’t want better. I want him. Because he’s my safety blanket. He’s my reassurance.
He’s not even mine.
