I see no point in trying anymore. I chased after you for too long, boy. And after everything I put into it I’m walking away now, with nothing. A broken heart is all I have to show For all the time I wasted on you
"Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we’re told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don’t, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn’t include a guy, maybe… it’s you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is… just… moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the un-returned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope"
I think it was the first time in my life I ever felt like I looked good. do you know what I mean? that nice feeling when you look in the mirror and your hair’s right for the first time in your life? I don’t think we should base so much on weight, muscles, and a good hair day, but when it happens, it’s nice. it really is.