It’s been months and I still flinch at the mention of your name. You still haunt me like a plague. But this is not about you, this is about me; about a girl who’s always pointing at the button on her chest titled “self destruct” for people to push, people like you, people who are as destroyed as me, people who thought love could fix it all when it’s clearly the exact opposite. From the start this was never about you. This is about destroying all things breakable before its destruction could surprise me. This is about breaking my own heart. I won’t blame you for pushing the button. I won’t blame you for leaving. But damn some times at the middle of the night I think and I think and I wish you didn’t.
— hazyaffection // this was never about you