This is how it feels knowing the expired date is close behind. I cannot ask you to promise that things will be just fine, because I know it wont. Things never work out for me, and I just found out that you are not an exception.
I wish I had an exception.
I always screw up, like, in the best way possible. Goodbye is all I have ever known. When I met you, I wish that you were an exception, because I felt like I deserve an exception, and it now kills me slowly knowing you are not.
I know we really do not have a fucking clue about the future, and we shall not act like we have one, but that does not mean we cannot predict it. We will end up going our own ways, because that is how it works with me. I never once have a really happy ending, and I now give up wishing for one. Because when I finally got my heart to love again, to trust again, to hope again, it ends in tears.
Some of me wants to end it right now and wears the dignity of being the one who leaves, but the other part of me is afraid to take the risk of being the one who is broken. Because I always am.
I really want to stop loving. I will, someday. Just not today. I promise myself to stop loving someone because nothing good ever comes out of it.