Flush it down the toilet

So I played the crying game the whole night. I’m going to write this down while it is still incredibly fresh, free flowing without the hindrance of pride, and while it felt like an unceasing series of agony. I’d hate to say it, but it is mostly my fault. I started pursuing my bad habits over and over again. I gave him reasons to hate me every day, because I hate it when people say that he’s so into me, because he is not. If he were, none of these would’ve happened. Every week we fight nonstop. We fight like chickens shitting on each other’s neck. I can’t blame him though, even if I do blame him, because I had my shortcomings, I had all reasons to blame myself, if there is a better word for pain in the ass I’d say that to myself a million times over. I just couldn’t love myself so much that I couldn’t love him too. I blame him for everything, even if he does not deserve it. In the end, I know it’ll be worth it. To know that we’ve learn so much. Maybe it’s the wrong time, wrong place and wrong people. It’ll be hard, heck it’ll be hard as hell. I’d have to come up with a good reason to get up from bed each day, I’d have to get used to being alone literally, and I’d have to do this all over again every day..again. It’s not like I’m not used to being alone, if there’s anyone in this world who can live alone, that’ll be me. But the thought of him makes this life so much easier for me. Sometimes I don’t understand why I care so much about what other people think. I shouldn’t have to. It’s too late. It’s too late to say that I want him back because I know he’s had enough. He’s too late to say he wants me back because I know he won’t do anything to prove his point. Words will never be enough, even ‘I love you’s’ aren’t enough.