if u hate christmas spirit u can jingle the fuck out of my life
i’m only a morning person on december 25th
Sometimes, things just don’t work out. You can look back on the beauty of what once was your perfect relationship, but look at it now- it’s in shambles. Maybe it’s for one big reason, or maybe a million little ones. Either way, you’re unhappy. You’re living in a trap of constant disappointment and misery. You can hope and pray that the person you once loved will go back to the person they used to be, but chances are, it wont happen. Why? Because somewhere between long distance, drunken stupors, and one too many fights, you realize that you no longer belong in this person’s life- that the puzzle pieces no longer fit together. It’s devastating, it really is. The memories of your past are beautiful. Little pieces of what you think could be the perfect life. But those don’t exist anymore. They were cremated long ago with your happiness. Forever gone, but likely never forgotten. As much as you love this person, or used to love this person, there is no other answer but to let go and move on. It hurts more than anything. Those nights where you roll around and reach for your significant other but all you feel is your pillow. Those nights where you miss that person so much you think your stomach is cutting itself with glass. Those nights are pure misery. What’s even worse is knowing that they’re out, completely moved on, with no traces of concern for you. By that time of night, they’ve probably drowned thoughts of you to the bottom of their bottle. Maybe your name has already been forgotten. In those moments, the alcohol is more important to that person than the memories. That’s when you know it’s time to go. It may be the hardest thing in the world to do, but it is the only option you have left. You may love someone with the entirety of your soul, but if that person doesn’t treat you like the sun, and his or her world doesn’t revolve around the love you give, then you need to find someone who will. You need to be happy. Why else are you here?
|—||Charles Bukowski (via ze-random-ramlingz)|