I’ve said it on this blog before: trust is highly flammable. One little spark and it all goes up in flames, baby. I don’t appreciate it when guys play around with me. It’s not cool and I will have none of it.
You hurt me, but that’s okay. I’ve spent the past three years dodging bullets like you. The occasional hit is just a part of the job.
“You’re just like the rest of them and I regret you from the beginning to this end”
Addition: It should be simple. So fucking simple that it makes you laugh out loud at the thought of all those past relationships that were murky and unclear. I get that now, and I think I’ve found a path to wiser decisions.
Is this my own “Dear John” letter, T-Swift style? I suppose it is, and it’s funny because his name really was
Breathing out poison, breathing in forgiveness