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Heart break

If there’s anything I’ve learned over my short existence, it’s to never let them see you hurt.

But it looks and sounds a lot easier than it really is.

After all how hard does it seem to paste a fake smile on your lips and tell everyone its fine?

How hard does it sound to act like the douche-monster who did it to you is really a good person on the inside?

It’s all just an act, one that only the best can pull off effectively.

Only this performance doesn’t end,

There’s no red carpet premier

No star-studded arrivals,

The only award you get from this performance is the satisfaction you get from knowing that people haven’t seen how weak you really are. 

That could’ve been me

that could’ve been me…

why wasn’t it me?

why did I have to fuck things up for myself?

why did I stop what looked to have been a good thing before it even happened?


maybe it’s better this way…

I mean if I wouldn’t have turned you away and blocked you out, like I do to every boy that comes my way, you never would’ve been with her…


she’s a perfectly nice girl, sweet and funny and nice and caring and pretty…

maybe you were meant to be with her and I was just the hurtle you had to get over to finally bring you two together.

But I still can’t help but think…

What if I were her?

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