I'm trying my best to put my mind off things.

I hate you.

A small part of me wants you, so badly, to read this.

Yesterday, I had the urge to go out and get laid. To get stoned. To drink and drink. And to not to be. I wanted to do anything to make me feel just slightly better about myself.

I'm not devastaed over you. Your the representation; Your everyone who has ever hurt me.

I'm not myself anymore, and don't even know who I am.

I'm finding myself CONSTANTLY blogging. Constantly eating, constantly making cups of tea, constantly dancing, and constantly shopping. Doing anything to put my mind off you.

But I still find myself constantly checking my phone for that little red flash, and jumping when it flashes to see if it's you.

It never ever is. You probably don't even think about me anymore. You've probably forgotten who I am. Even after saying 'I'll look after you' 'I want to be there for you'.

Bullshit.

I'm Meeting a friend tommorow. It makes me feel so happy that I can lie to people so easily now; she'll never know about what I have on my theighs and what I do when I'm sad. I have my own little world, The world I began to let you in and you completly shat over it all.