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It doesnt matter how slow you go as long as you dont stop.
Day one.
I stayed in bed, I didn’t move and I didn’t talk to anyone.
Day two.
I nearly cracked and called you, but I hid my phone from myself and spent my day sat on my bedroom floor thinking about all the times you messed up.
Day three.
I started to respond to my parents, only replying with the words yes or no. I moved to the sofa downstairs and laid there till 3 in the morning.
Day four.
Day four was the worst. I called you and you allowed it to ring 3 times before clicking ignore, it showed me how real this is and proved how much more I care about you than you care about me.
Day five.
My Mum forced me to go to the supermarket with her, a song you like came on the radio, I didn’t have time to stop myself from punching the radio, it’s broken now. Just like me, my Mum didn’t get mad she just looks sad.
Day six.
I’m starting to talk more, one sentence at least.That was until my Dad came home with your favourite take-away meal, I tried to eat but I ended up spending the rest of the evening in the bathroom vomiting up the lining of my stomach.
Day seven.
I woke up on the bathroom floor, I didn’t move all day.
Day eight.
I miss you but I don’t want to think about it anymore.

the days after you left (via iclungtoy0u)

blackgirlwhiteboylove:

Chris Pine and Zoë Kravitz are back on. Read about it HERE.


I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.

— (via psych-facts)