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FuckItUp

@fuxkedsideways

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londonfromparis
It just goes to show that no matter how well you think you know someone, you never can get inside their head. You never can know what they’re thinking. They’re telling you that they love you, and they’re thinking that they don’t. The actions and thoughts just don’t match up. They say everything is fine, but in their head, they know exactly what is wrong. They’re saying they’ll never leave, and thinking they want to go – and it’s messed up, but there’s not a thing we can do about it.
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aboveethestarss
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mymessyink
I didn’t mean to break his heart. He is the clear, glass vase on the top shelf. I am a child, reaching for something I know is too good for my grubby fingers, something I know I’m not allowed to have. My fingerprints coat his body, and I slice open my scars trying to figure out his secrets. I pretend I am not hurting and pretend that my smile is genuine. He is too perfect not to hold, even if just for a second. The bloodied, slippery mirror refracted an image I was unprepared for, and I saw a reflection of all my faults. I heard his heart shatter before I saw the remnants at my feet. Guilt washed over me as I was caught red handed by the parent of truth. The vase, so fragile, so pristine, was ruined by my carelessness, and I will forever regret it. Because I am the mess, even though he’s in pieces on the floor. He’s a mosaic, and I am discarded fragments. He is worthy of framing, and while he saw colorful beauty in my wreckage, I knew he deserved a masterpiece of his own. I didn’t mean to break his heart. I broke mine too.

(via mymessyink)