Today is the day, the day where I will not talk to you in anyway shape or form. Not by call, nor a text message and most certainly not by social media. If I can get through today, then I can get through the next and eventually I will be able to exist without you here. I can move on from you—I just need to get through today.

wordsbymp

Why do I still care when it’s obvious that you don’t.
—  Day 185
What sucks is to watch yourself slowly fall back into old habits that you’ve tried a million times to break. It’s like every time I find myself climbing out of this deep hole, I slip right back in. Why am I such a failure?

you don’t stop
loving someone
just because
you don’t talk
to each other
anymore.

you don’t start
hating someone
just because
things got tough
or wasn’t all
sunshine and
butterflies
the whole time.

sometimes
things work out,
sometimes
they don’t,

sometimes shit
just happens,
and that’s okay.

love is really,
fucking complicated
guys.
but go with it
when you find it
anyways.

you might
get lucky
or you might not,
but either way
you can say you
tried and learned.

and that’s
important
too.

—  trying to learn from what happened (6/21/17), thekaijusleeps
I’m moving on; as I miss you less and less each day. I soon realized my home was always within myself. For I will always be complete despite the damage you left me. So I guess this tragic goodbye taught me how to love myself more. Like the way I chose to be better, even if I’m on my own this time around.
—   Notes After A Breakup // Conee Berdera

One of the most important things I’ve ever learned is that life goes on. People leave, relationships change, and things you loved become less fun. Parties end, seasons end, lives end. But good things happen too. It’s give and take, we lose and gain, things change for better and worse. We just have to accept and trust in that.

It is not easy to let go of people,
especially when they are of
kindred souls to your own.
You just have to trust that
however short they stayed in
your life, they have fulfilled
a beautiful purpose - perhaps
it was to touch you softly,
or to wake you up from a stupor,
or to teach you a lesson of
some sort. Whatever it was
they came into your life for,
you are never emptier for their
absence. Rather, you are more
whole for it. Love them while
letting them go. Love them
even after they are gone. And
love yourself all the more for
your strength.
—  The Subtle Art of Letting Go // Genefe Navilon
i’m sorry. and it’s not because i couldn’t be the one who would love you enough, but because you couldn’t see that i was the only one who tried to be.
—  but it’s your loss not mine.
Moving on isn’t about forgetting them or not loving them anymore. It’s about admitting that although you may still love them, the relationship isn’t worth the pain, and you deserve better. And most important, it’s about learning to love yourself more than you love them. After this, you may stop loving them, and you may even forget them. But if you don’t, at least you won’t be sad anymore. Maybe just once in a while. You’ll be over them, because you’re in love with someone new — yourself.
— 

@i-am-strong-all-on-my-own

(Adapted from quote by @motivated-mindset )

People in the real world always say, when something terrible happens, that the sadness and loss and aching pain of the heart will ‘lessen as time passes,’ but it isn’t true. Sorrow and loss are constant, but if we all had to go through our whole lives carrying them the whole time, we wouldn’t be able to stand it. The sadness would paralyze us. So in the end we just pack it into bags and find somewhere to leave it.
—  Fredrik Backman, My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

Pinky.

I remember all the promises we’ve made together—all the good things you’ve said that I thought would last forever. We were like kids writing our futures without knowing how time could change us—how the world will try to always make us reminisce the past. How the people around us will try to mold us into something we didn’t want.

Ring.

It was the different type of love. I don’t know if fate is real or if destiny confuses us about what we feel. But I always imagine you with me, and my heart beating with yours in symphony. It was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. The most wonderful feeling I couldn’t get tired of.

Middle.

There’s always something that goes in between. Pedestrians passing by— every time the traffic lights signal us to stop. When you were walking fast yet caught up behind someone who is walking slowly enough. When you already want to do the things you love, but you saw something that puts a doubt in your heart. When you thought you already found someone who you can’t enjoy living without.

Index.

I choose you over anything else, hoping that you’ll also end up picking me over everybody else. Yet I put a finger on your lips telling you to stop spreading all the sugar coated lies. I point to your chest, hoping for you to be honest. Darling I think I couldn’t take it anymore, if you continue to pretend that you still love me more.

Thumb.

Believe when I say that everything will be okay, even if it will take a lot of time for me to heal. In the end I will surely learn from all of this things. I will still carry the love I have somewhere inside me. Not for you, but for—each and every—broken part of me. This is how I should let go of you. One by one, I’ll remove my fingertips away from holding your hands. One by one I’ll let go of you so you can rest and breathe. Day by day, letting go will ease the pain.

And until my hands stop bleeding, my soul will suddenly appreciate the wonderful life I’m living. In the end my heart will learn how to love myself more—and will finally consider it as my home.

—  ma.c.a // I should stop holding on you

What if we hadn’t met?

Do you think we would’ve been better off?


I’d probably be peacefully sleeping instead of constantly thinking about you. I wouldn’t be thinking about your smile and how I desperately wished I could see it one last time. I wouldn’t be reminiscing how good we were once upon a time. And I certainly wouldn’t be missing you. I’d be happy because I wouldn’t be burdened with the thoughts of you holding someone else in your arms, someone who isn’t me. If I hadn’t met you, I would possibly still have had thought I was good enough, that I deserved happiness and I would find someone who’d give it to me.


And you, well you wouldn’t be so bitter towards me for starters.  Maybe, you would’ve found someone who treated you the way you deserved to be treated from the start and you would’ve never wasted a year of your life on something so pointless. You would’ve always been happy.


Imagine. What if the day you saw something in me in that room, I wasn’t there for something to be seen? And the day you decided to message me, I didn’t reply for us to talk for countless of hours? And after all those days of you telling me you loved me, I never ever said it back? Wouldn’t we have saved each other from all this pain? 

What if we had never met?

—  But we did.