Unrequited-Love Just a blog for expression...
I am a cacophony of emotion, I am a symphony of different personalities. I am one girl all mixed up.
This blog is for me and no one else, a blog to write my feelings and situations without the judgement of my friends, family, anyone. A place to vent and post pictures I like.


I miss how far away you were.

This proximity is inconvenient.

I could mis-imagine you constantly

when I was not with you


But you took away that liberty with your presence.

How unfortunate.

I rather liked that false image of you.

He cared so much.

- It’s 2:00 a.m. and I’m drunk on the idea of you again


Here’s the deal….

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In possibly the cruelest twist of fate I’ve encountered in my short life is that my partners favourite song is basically one of two triggers i have :/

I’d never expect them to go without the enjoyment of music they love because i know how much i love music and how vastly it helps me but i am endlessly appreciative to them for the fact that they tend to not listen to said song while i am around…

My other problem with this situation is that i can’t explain why it’s a trigger… they have ever right to know and when they asked i wish i could give a verbal answer but there are no words to say other than i am sorry, i just can’t listen to that song…
Come to think of it possibly the only song i have found so far that i cannot bare to listen to even the opening cords cause my blood to run cold like ice through my veins UUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH cigfejwluo79f8aqu7w9fgeoewb u9iasugv9idgs I hate it so much, i hate the thought and the sound and while i have never been able to listen to the full thing since that first time, it upon any sort of hearing of it becomes lodged into my brain once again and i find myself thinking of anything and everything to remove it’s invasive presence from my brain…
I hate the way my hands shake and that it likes to stick around…..
I am going to be fine if anyone reads this, don’t stress it’s just a thing that happnens sometimes… 

I feel hunted, with no place to hide. No solace, no belonging. Just an empty need to keep moving away from whatever or whoever it is that’s after me. On the Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta (via leaningonthesideofwonder)
I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place. – (via guy)


Whimsical abandoned house in Nova Scotia, Canada

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