Broken Bella Donna











{November 22, 2014}   Fuck.

You are such a douche. You  make me feel like so a fucking loser sometimes. And I get so ANGRY with myself because you make me feel this way.

I’m so jack of you coming on hard and fast and fucking up my life, making me think stuff and feel stuff and then you wander back off like none of it means anything to you. You tell me how much you miss me but you have no qualms in ignoring me for months on end. You rarely bother to lower yourself to talk to me and when you do you’re all Mr Fucking Casual, like my company means nothing to you.

WE BOTH KNOW YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF.

Or do I just hope that because the alternative is just too hurtful? Maybe you genuinely don’t give a shit. Maybe you really are a user, a prick, someone who only wants my attention to make yourself feel good. Maybe I am being completely and utterly had.

You talk a lot of talk but you back it up with nothing. You leave me feeling pathetic, desperate, needy, sad.

I make so many plans in my head of things we can do, ways we can catch up, stuff that involves you actually talking to me once in awhile. And you can’t even bring yourself to answer a damn message.

You tell me you’re cold, you tell me you’re a cunt,  you tell me how you think I should hate you because of the way you behave towards me. AND YET YOU CHANGE NOTHING. And for whatever reason I sit around and cop all of this bullshit because those four hours you fling my way every goddamn never mean more to me than months and months of communication with anyone else. And you’re damn right. You are cold, you are a cunt, and I shouldn’t put up with your  bullshit, I should call you on it and hate you because you’re such a shithouse friend. And I fucking well can’t and this ANGERS me.

Why? Seriously… why? Why the fuck is the only person I’ve ever felt that strongly for… someone who cares so little about my feelings? Why the fuck am I dumped with this? Why? Fucking WHY.

Fuck you, you selfish fucking arsehole. I am SO SICK of going to bed with tears on my cheeks over you. You seriously need to start treating me a lot better or just fuck off out of my life. That sad, pathetic existence I led, the one where I was sheltered and frozen, incapable of feeling anything but misery was at least a sight lot  more consistent than this.

I just want you to communicate with me. I need to know you’re not going to run away and leave me again. That’s all I want. A little of your time. You can’t fuck around with  my feelings like this. You just can’t. I can’t bear it.

I’m terrified you’ll read this and break ties with me again. Maybe that’s what I need but it isn’t what I want. I just want… you to act like you care. I want you to back up what you say for a few hours a year with actions. You’re the only person in my life who is supposed to understand me, and care about me and you treat me the same as everyone else does and that hurts.

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