I think I mentioned it before how I hate myself for being stubborn when it comes to a few things. Even though I know for a fact that I was partly wrong too, I just can’t muster up the courage to do the first move. Why do I feel like it’s not my fault when I know I am involved too? My thoughts are torturing me sometimes, and just sparing my heart with all those horrible ideas for most times. I’ve been reflecting lately about what’s really bugging me, and then it hits me. The people who can hurt us in a really unfathomable way are the ones who we love being with the most. It’s funny that there are a few who are way concerned than us, that they even talked to me in a serious manner and their faces, voice and even the simplest of gestures show genuine sadness. They can’t believe how something that was once so shiny turned into something extremely dull. What’s even worse is that if some people are way too concerned, there are also people who can’t seem to prevent their noses from meddling. I hate it. You’re making everything worse. Maybe I just want to say thank you to that person I had the chance to talked with yesterday. That one may be absent-minded every day, but I swear you can easily talk to her and whatever she said made real sense.