Life is not always as it seems._____________
About me:
I am a 20 years old female. Born and raised in Northern Ontario, Canada.
You want to know more about me? Just ask ;)
Link reblogged from Misleading Most, with 92 notes
Misleading Most,: This is for the quiet types. →
This is for the ones who are called out for having no personality. For the ones who prefer to sit alone at lunch. For the ones who don’t want anyone else in their room.
The world frowns upon us for being quiet - but in our silence, we dream. We imagine new universes and dimensions that those who…
Source: stateofjoe
#%*@
I had wanted you back, you didn’t want me back. Yet you are asking me to move away with you so that we can be together… Honestly? Yet you are still talk to another chick…
Photo reblogged from Carpe Diem with 141,017 notes
If I would attempt anything should I know for sure that I would not fail, I would definitely go back to school to become a Sex Therapist. I just don’t have the money, the patience or the balls to do it.
Source: beiya
Two Months
Two Months of Hell
A little bird once said that it takes time to heal. Please be warned, a lot of this post is not going to make any sense as I just rumbled off everything as it came to mind. It does take time to heal. However, you also have to allow yourself to heal. I can’t seem to do that which is making me incredibly selfish. You see, I’ve been stopping my ex-boyfriend from doing “things” with other woman because I can’t stand the though of myself being with someone, thus, I figure he should be feeling the same way. He is trying but I keep butting in making it even more difficult for him. I don’t spend time with him with the intention of stopping him, because I do want to be with him, I just can’t be with him the way I used to because half the time the person he fell in love with…is not there. I try to act like I’m okay, and feel happy but its a mask. I feel like such a child sometimes. I don’t want to move on. I wanted things to go perfectly. I had a plan for Christ’s sake! I wanted to be married and have our own house, not apartment, a house by age 23, start having kids by age 24, be in a stable career that I could be happy with for the next 25 to 30 years… But no, its all gone, his hopes and dreams are gone too and its my fault. My depression has lead me to a bottomless pit. I’d like to say emotionless but all there is is anger and hatred. Its like having a dark cloud looming over you all the time. I asked him to run away with me. My parents are not exactly approving of him because of the things I have said. It wasn’t a healthy relationship, just I couldn’t say, “No” or separate myself from him. It was as though he was the only person in the world. I had changed the things that I had liked to what he enjoyed so that we’d spend more time together doing the things he liked. I used to think that it didn’t matter what my parents thought about my boyfriends too, but it really did. Not that they played a role in me breaking up with him, just it played a part in us trying to get back together… All I keep doing is providing sex to him. I can’t comfort him. I can’t be there for him. I stopped him from having sex with one a younger girl because she had told him that she’s had multiple partners and I knew that one day if we were to ever get back together, him having sex with someone like that would place a huge factor over my decision. I simply cannot do it. I view sex as a sacred act. It is to be between two people who love each other and have respect for each other. Not that I believe in no sex before marriage, because I don’t. I just don’t believe in fooling around with anyone willing to touch you. Have some class. I love him, I’m just not in love with him because I can’t be. I’m lost in the wreckage of my soul. It breaks my heart because I know what I am doing is wrong but its so hard to let go of everything that I know and have felt…
A Little Bird Once Said…
…that all good things come to those who wait. Unfortunately, patience is not one of my better virtues. I wish it were because I’d probably be comfortable with myself, at ease, less worrisome and so on. It is as though life is flying by so fast that I have given up on trying to grasp at any opportunity that happens to blow my way, which in turn, I become more impatient! Who would have thought? Perhaps that is why watching a mother with her child can be so captivating. Mother’s really do have a high level of patience. I mean, not all mother’s do but a high portion of them do. I do not want to be stereotypical. No, I do not have any children. One day I wish to have some though. Perhaps two. I suppose I will have to find some patience first though.
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