I hate girls who act like they own the world just because they are pretty and is getting shit loads of attention. BIATCH I can clearly see through your lies on how you talk. People only love you because of your “pretty” face and they can’t see pass through that which is pretty sad. Stop being a poser just be real before I throw a potato at you. Your personality is ugly as shit which makes you ugly as shit too.
Sometimes you just got to know when enough is enough and let it go and move on. Then they’ll realize you’re not the person they though you were. You’re better.
Its my Final decision
To be honest, if I got the chance to go back in time and fix everything that eventually tore us apart, I wouldn’t. I don’t regret any decision I made when it came to us. We had a good run, there’s no looking past it. Once in awhile there’s always a little part of me that misses us, but that’s normal. Right?
I see the person you are now, not in the perspective of “my boyfriend”, but just a regular person. & For the lack of a better word, I despise who you are. You’re cocky, self-centered, and most of all, inconsiderate. But I won’t blame you for our break up, because you’re definitely not the one to blame. You just changed. & I understand that people change all the time, but I hate the person you’ve become. I couldn’t learn to fall in love with you all over again… Because I was too in love with the person you used to be.
A great character will always make you more attractive
than someone who only has a great face but no substance. Thus, physical quality catches the attention, but the character catches the heart.
Why do we find it so hard to let go?
Why do we have such difficulty accepting the inevitable, dealing with what’s right in front of us? Why can’t we get over something we can do nothing to change? I guess we all just hope too much, hope for the best, hope that she likes you too when the truth is she doesn’t. There’s a fine line between faith and naivety. Sometimes we’re too in love to see that line and so blindly cross it.
