Okay, so I wouldn't go as far as to call it love... Like I said, life and shit happens and things don't work out. I get it and I dealt with it. But why do I still think about it? Why do my lips frown upon hearing his name or thinking about him? Why does my mind go blank as soon I'm near him. Why can't I move on? 

I lied. Q broke my hear in more ways than one but hear me out.

I chase love. Is it bad? Who cares because I do it anyways. Despite what my friends say, "Don't chase love, it will come to you." Blah blah. I love to believe that if you really want something, you work for it and that's what I'm doing. I'm not chasing money, no I'm living for those moments in life. You know, the ones that make you forget that tomorrow is a new day. Like when two lovers first meet. Or when you just did something so crazy and wild you are rushed with adrenaline. Those moments...I chase that not something so materialistic. 

I get that money is useful and I often find myself wishing I wasn't broke. But when it comes to having the best of memories with my friends, heartbreaks and bittersweet moments... I feel like I'm rich with happiness. I appreciate the little things, I get excited for the tiniest of details like seeing a guy looking at girl who isn't paying attention with pure intentions. 

And if only he was that guy and I was that girl. Such a simple action that I so badly crave. I think about him constantly, not in a obsessive way of course. But I know that I'm a mere memory in the back of his mind. I'm not trying to sound so dramatic this is honestly how it feels. I loved the moments we had, as short as they were. I loved the way my heart skipped a beat when his name popped up on my screen. I loved the attention he gave me. 


I hate the way things ended, hate the fact that he made me doubt my insecurities. I hate that it bothers me  just thinking he is probably talking to someone else and I'm just here, bitchin about it. I hate that I can't move on. I hate that it ended so fast, that I feel alone as hell. But what I hate the most is thinking that maybe if I gave him what he wanted from the beginning he would still be here. If I had just spread my legs the night we'd talk all night instead of opening my heart to him, he would be with me. 

I mean that just breaks me, it really does. Here I am wanting a guy who makes me feel like I'm not pretty enough for him. Who makes me think that sex is more valuable than love. I fooled myself thinking that it didn't hurt me, that I missed him sexually, that I didn't get attached. I'm fool for pretending it was fine, for not allowing myself to cry it out and getting over it because I so foolishly think he is going to come back. 

It started out as lust for each other, and that's probably how it ended for him. But for me, it ended in heartbreak. And as tears escape my eyes as I type this, I'm allowing myself to begin the process of moving on. Truly moving on and not just looking for someone else on Tinder to take his place. I’m no longer going to look for him in the hallways, check if he has seen my Snapchat story. And of course I hate that he was so dumb for letting go someone as amazing as I am, he would of known real happiness with me. As always...