broke my trust

Why is it that
we doubt ourselves
when someone
hurts us?
Why is it that
we wonder where
we went wrong
instead of where
they went wrong?
Why is it that
we let them
define us so easily
and we don’t
blame them for
what they’ve done
to us?
Why is it that
we are willing
to believe
it was our fault
for being too much
too loving
too caring
too clingy
to attached
too naive
too—
whatever the hell
they say?
—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write #66

And someone asked about you.

I told them I loved you.
But I didn’t tell them that you still had me even if I don’t have you.

Goodness, did I love you.

—  No One Told Me Remembering Is Worse Than Forgetting
Don’t flatter yourselves guys, my father broke my heart long before you ever had a chance.
—  Epitome of Daddy issues
You once made me fall asleep with a smile on my face. You now make me fall asleep with a tear stained pillow and a broken heart.
I always thought you were something special. But there’s nothing special about how much pain you’ve caused.