Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.
I’m so tired
and I miss you
and I’m so tired of missing you
have you ever just cried because you’re you
I tried to find you in bottoms of vodka bottles, I tried to find you in the cigarette smoke I was breathing out, I tried to find you in the blood of my own cuts.
But still, I couldn’t find you. You’re somewhere else. You’re gone.
After we broke up, I was happily drunk with my new freedom but now I’m fucking hungover thinking about us. Half of me is craving to call you but the other is still hoping that the Advil will stop the headaches.
-You know you’ll be ok, but you still feel awful.
-You know people love you, but it doesn’t feel like they do.
-You know doing something will make you feel better, but you just don’t know how to.
-You want to be well, but you just can’t seem to get there.