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Thursday, April 14, 2011

I shouldn’t daydream.

It takes a special kind of person to fuck me over. 
First, I’d have to like them. Everything from the smell of their skin to the way their nose scrunches when they don’t want to scratch their itch. It’s like Can you get any more perfect? And the answer is yes. They do things you’ve only dreamt a person would do. They captivate the every essence of everything you wish to find in a person. All their morals and values you appreciate. It later gets to the point where you can start to picture a future with them. You know, the kind of future that involves two people. The kind of future where you need another to get to your goals, to reach your ambitions and to become complete.  You aimlessly wander around your head seeing yourself happier than you can ever imagine, until you find out that that future will no longer be. 
They decided it won’t work, got up, and left. And there you are feeling stupid over the things you thought you had. It’s called heartbreak. I’m not over mine, nor will I ever be. I learnt to suppress it; push it to the side and focus on things irrelevant to it. I guess I shouldn't daydream.


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