(no subject)
My ex-boyfriend got a haircut.
He originally had this really silky really beautiful long black hair that went down a little past his shoulder blades. Recently he got it cut to his shoulders, and I didn't think it was possible, but it is even more glorious then before. It's kind of choppy, layered, he got some emo bangs, and now he doesn't have to put it up at work, making him look amazing 24/7.
This somehow made me wanna kick myself for breaking up with him, because looking back on it, I loved that hair, loved to run my hands through it, and the entire reason I broke up with him was because I couldn't handle being in a relationship. We dated officially for a week. Unofficially for a couple months I'd say. But as soon as he made it official I couldn't hack it. I'm moving away soon, he's 6 years older, and for some retarded reason, I considered him an intrusion into my intoverted nature rather than something to be welcomed. He told me I should tell my parents to make sure they were okay with it, and I didn't want too. So I broke up with him. It was stupid. But I felt so much better when I did. I felt liberated and free. And I like being single. Except when my ex-boyfriend is smoking hot and I suddenly remember all the times he kissed me, all the times he cuddled me, and I don't really like being coddled, but he was so relaxed he let me push him around all the time. And I don't trust guys easily, so they need to let me push them around and be mean to them and know that for the most part, I don't mean it.
I really hate it when he comes to work with really big dark hickeys on his neck. His new girlfriend is not really that cute, and she apparantly likes to attack his neck, because he always has to cover them up with like H bandaids.
In the end, logically I did the right thing. I'm moving to Arlington, and I'm still underaged for another month and I'm about to meet new people and it probably would've ended eventually anyways.
But I was stupid for not giving our relationship a chance. At the first sign of discomfort I turned tail and ran, and even though I get along okay without him, it's times like these when I hate myself for letting him go. After all, tan people and great hair are my two biggest weaknesses.
I'll never forget his beautiful locks. I just wish I could run my hands through it again. But it's okay. It's my fault, so I really should just take my punishment without complaint.
He originally had this really silky really beautiful long black hair that went down a little past his shoulder blades. Recently he got it cut to his shoulders, and I didn't think it was possible, but it is even more glorious then before. It's kind of choppy, layered, he got some emo bangs, and now he doesn't have to put it up at work, making him look amazing 24/7.
This somehow made me wanna kick myself for breaking up with him, because looking back on it, I loved that hair, loved to run my hands through it, and the entire reason I broke up with him was because I couldn't handle being in a relationship. We dated officially for a week. Unofficially for a couple months I'd say. But as soon as he made it official I couldn't hack it. I'm moving away soon, he's 6 years older, and for some retarded reason, I considered him an intrusion into my intoverted nature rather than something to be welcomed. He told me I should tell my parents to make sure they were okay with it, and I didn't want too. So I broke up with him. It was stupid. But I felt so much better when I did. I felt liberated and free. And I like being single. Except when my ex-boyfriend is smoking hot and I suddenly remember all the times he kissed me, all the times he cuddled me, and I don't really like being coddled, but he was so relaxed he let me push him around all the time. And I don't trust guys easily, so they need to let me push them around and be mean to them and know that for the most part, I don't mean it.
I really hate it when he comes to work with really big dark hickeys on his neck. His new girlfriend is not really that cute, and she apparantly likes to attack his neck, because he always has to cover them up with like H bandaids.
In the end, logically I did the right thing. I'm moving to Arlington, and I'm still underaged for another month and I'm about to meet new people and it probably would've ended eventually anyways.
But I was stupid for not giving our relationship a chance. At the first sign of discomfort I turned tail and ran, and even though I get along okay without him, it's times like these when I hate myself for letting him go. After all, tan people and great hair are my two biggest weaknesses.
I'll never forget his beautiful locks. I just wish I could run my hands through it again. But it's okay. It's my fault, so I really should just take my punishment without complaint.