Smile

Smiles are crazy. They can have multiple uses. 
You can smile at people walking by in public. You can smile when you read a funny text. You can smile sarcastically during an argument when something completely idiotic was said. You can smile just because you’re happy. You can smile to hide other emotions. 
It’s very easy to smile, but it’s hard to make it mean something sometimes. That’s the thing, though, sometimes you might not know why someone is smiling. It can be out of pure happiness, sarcasm, or just a front to cover up a broken soul. The funny thing is, it’s hard to tell. 
So smile. Smile at anyone you can anytime you get the chance. Smile at the girl who’s hiding suicidal thoughts behind a smile that you wouldn’t have ever been able to tell was fake. Smile at the woman casually buying groceries for her family that’s falling apart behind closed doors. Smile at the homeless man who’s smiling at you, waiting for even the slightest bit of hope found within the simple smile of another human being. Smile at the seemingly happy man, struggling to provide for his family. Smile, and mean it. Because you never know what’s behind anyone else’s smile but your own.

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Everything Was Nothing.

It’s been about 7 months since you left me for the last time. I tell everyone I’ve moved on. I tell them I don’t love you anymore. I tell them I’m better without you. I tell them I can’t stand the very thought of your existence. I tell them I hope you’re miserable without me. But guess what? I haven’t really moved on. I’ll never stop loving you, just like I promised. I’m a wreck with AND without you. I can’t stand your existence because you’re not part of mine anymore. And I know you’re perfectly fine without me. That’s what sucks the most. I’m sitting here crying uncontrollably and you’re sleeping peacefully with no worries, no regrets, nothing.
You used to think I was overreacting. You thought I was acting insane when you left me.
You’re right, I was going completely insane. My life had just taken a dramatic turn for the worst when you left. How was I supposed to act? You promised me forever, multiple times. You’d always look at me with those beautiful, blue eyes and shake your head and say “I never thought I’d actually get to be with someone like you,” and then talk about how beautiful, amazing, and perfect I was. You’d always write songs about me and surprise me with them when I was sad and sing them to me while you looked at me and smiled and winked after every verse. You always talked about how we’d have the perfect wedding. You’d talk about our children and how we’d be great parents. You’d talk about growing old together; sitting in front of a fireplace, drinking tea, looking at our high school pictures, our wedding pictures, and smiling about how far we’ve come.
You used to comfort me when I would cry. You’d wipe my tears, hold me, and even cry with me. Every single time. My sadness was your sadness. Then everything took a sudden change. You’d sigh when I’d start crying. You’d look at me like “oh my god, she’s crying AGAIN.” You started yelling at me for everything. You started questioning everything about our relationship. You told me I wasn’t the girl you wanted to marry anymore. You told me it was a bother to try to make time for me. You told me you felt obligated to be with me because we wasted so much time. Wasted.
On February 25th, I asked you “Did you even really love me?” You stared at me for a good 5 seconds and said nothing. In your hesitation, I found my answer. I walked out of that room, slammed the door and you came running after me. I saw you. Everyone saw you looking for me. But I had been hurt one too many times and I didn’t care what you had to say. When I lost you, I lost a part of myself. My entire life had been planned out. Our forever was in YOUR hands and you threw that all away without warning, without hesitation, and without caring. So don’t you fucking tell me I was overreacting. Don’t you dare.

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Attached

I have this really weird thing about me. It’s really infuriating, actually, to me and probably the person/people on the other end of this. You see, when I meet somebody new– whether it be a friend or a guy I like– I tend to get a little clingy at first. I want to text them constantly. I want to be around them constantly. I want them to be anywhere and everywhere I’m at. It’s just a little stronger when it’s someone I like or can see myself being with. Because with friends, it’s true what they say: they come and go. So will guys, I guess, but it’s a little different when it’s a mutual like and we want to start a relationship. It’s really tough not to be so clingy.
I try so hard not to be that way, and it’s not even that I get attached to the person, really. It’s more a matter of me getting attached to the idea of the person. I come up with all sorts of scenarios in my head; how things could turn out, dates, things I’d say, things I’d want him to say, etc. But that’s silly, isn’t it? It’s not unrealistic to think that way, but it’s insensible. That’s not a clear way to think early on before a relationship even starts.
It’s even more stupid when we actually start getting somewhere with the “relationship” or whatever you’d call that… I start backing off. I start pushing them away. It’s like a bandaid. You start peeling it off slowly and then completely rip it off. That’s how I push people out of my life. I go from one extreme to the other. Attached, and then I detach. Always.
I just think it’d be easier if I left people before they left me. I’m sure everyone’s intentions aren’t to walk out of my life, but a lot of people have done it so easily. But then I think, “I can’t be the only one with this mindset.”
Copy and paste all these words and implant them into someone else’s brain. They could be just as scared as I am. And just like I’m always incredibly afraid people will leave me, they’re also terrified. And by detaching myself from them or anything about them, I could be crushing every bit of hope they had left in anyone.
But wait… It’s also insensible to grieve over every loss in my life and get so worked up when I, myself, started doing the exact same thing.

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