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These Love Stories





15 notes | Reblog | 2 months ago
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"So you can’t text me and you can’t e-mail me and you can’t write on my wall. Like, if you really miss me, you need to grow up and get in your car and come and see me."

-Adam, No Strings Attached
29 notes | Reblog | 2 months ago
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27 notes | Reblog | 2 months ago
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"But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit."

-William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice
16 notes | Reblog | 2 months ago
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Love story #23

A lot has happened since I wrote here last.  For instance, I met this other guy, became interested until he was a total dick, then met someone else.  But that isn’t the most important part.  

The most important part is that it’s finally over.  Completely.  I partially credit the aforementioned dick for helping this along since the two had completely different personalities that actually made me realize I wanted someone a little less like him.  But the biggest reason for finally, finally getting over him is my own realization that there will never be a time when he will put me first.  I will always be his backup plan, his last resort.

It’s really not a great feeling knowing that you are someone’s last choice.  It’s the kind of thing where you just keep guessing and wondering what you could possibly do to appeal to him over whoever he is currently spending time with.

It’s ridiculous how long it took me to stop wishing I was different in a way that he would like.  But last term, when I was with ______, ______ just seemed so interested in me and kept telling me how hot I was.  I know, I know, that sounds very superficial of me.  But I realized that I am the way I am, and it’s time to find someone (good) who will appreciate that.  

When I see him now, I feel angry.  It’s unfortunate.  Unfortunate because I used to enjoy being with him so much and now I work hard to conceal how fed up I am.  Being easy to read when I’m mad, he can probably tell.  But the same thoughts keep scrolling through when I’m with him.  ”I would have done anything for you;” “Why did you like me for a little bit?  It made me believe we were a possibility;” and other similarly pathetic thoughts.  

Obviously, I don’t want to fall into the “nice guy” (girl?) stereotype, where I get mad if the guy I like doesn’t like me back.  But in this case, he hasn’t been a great friend to me either.  He’s a flake like you won’t believe.

This may be premature, but I think we won’t be as close as we were last term, especially since I’m living with two friends now.  So strange.  Just one week and things have changed from him bringing me ice cream late at night and watching movies on my bed to the two of us not even sitting together in class and perfunctory conversations.  Strange, and a little sad as well.  

C’est la vie.  So it goes.


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Love story #22

I can still remember the first time I met him.  It was on the first day of school freshman year, in one of my classes.  I dropped that class, but I can still remember not having a very good first impression of him.  But then, I slowly became more and more interested in him as we became friends.

I think I started liking him in freshman fall, but didn’t realize it until the beginning of winter term.  That makes it more than a year now.  

I’ve never been the kind of girl that likes to show her feelings; I much prefer to keep everything inside and never let anyone know.  God forbid that I would actually tell a boy that I liked him. 

But it turns out that I’ve been pretty obvious.  It turns out that his friends have figured it out, and he knows that I still like him.  And this blog has only been another way for me to obsess over him.  

Maybe he’s selfish for spending so much time with me.  Doesn’t he know that I hurt every time I’m with him?  Why did he ask me to formal?

Maybe I’m selfish for refusing to let go of this when I know it’s absolutely futile, that even if we got together, it would not work out.  They say that if you love someone, let them go.  But I’m afraid to because I know that it was never meant to be.  He would never come back to me.

I think I made this blog for him because I have never written about another boy who could be a potential love interest.  

The other day, I was walking with another boy, and our casual conversation was so laid-back and free from heartache.  A couple days ago, I got an email asking for my number from a boy I met two weeks ago.  Being with them feels so simple and without chains, like I am in high school again.

I will focus on them.  I will not think about him.  Somebody told me he might like this other girl.


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"Things fall apart, even when you think they’re stronger than anything you could ever imagine."

-Susane Colasanti, Waiting For You
3 notes | Reblog | 4 months ago
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9 notes | Reblog | 6 months ago
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Maya Hayes: Poor April. Just like the character in the story. Who’s always been the friend then she realized she doesn’t just want to be the friend; she wants to be the girlfriend. Except it’s too late. Will Hayes: What do you mean? Maya Hayes: Weren’t you listening? She came home for you. 

Maya Hayes: Poor April. Just like the character in the story. Who’s always been the friend then she realized she doesn’t just want to be the friend; she wants to be the girlfriend. Except it’s too late. 
Will Hayes: What do you mean? 
Maya Hayes: Weren’t you listening? She came home for you. 


21 notes | Reblog | 6 months ago
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