Its always fascinated me how people go from loving you madly to nothing at all. Like absolutely nothing. It hurts so much. When I feel someone is going to leave me, I have a tendency to break up first before I get to hear the whole thing. Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one. When I think that its over, that I’ll never see him again like this. I’ll bump into him, we’ll meet our new boyfriend and girlfriend, act as if we had never been together, then we’ll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness, I’ll start to look for true love again, desperately looking everywhere and after two years of loneliness, meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well. But then, there comes a moment in life when you can’t recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, you still can’t live without him. And even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, you love his sneezes more than anyone else’s kisses.

Sometimes its easier for me to pretend then to face my feelings. Sometimes its easier to try and make it alone than risk getting hurt again. Sometimes its easier to be nonchalant towards certain people so I don’t let them get too close. Sometimes I’m scared, but when I push you away, it doesn’t mean I don’t care it means I care too much.