una foto dura per sempre...

My life is so fucking empty.

So ogten lately I’ve sat down to have a single glass of wine then next thing I know I’m down half a bottle…

Lately I’m feeling like life should just get fucked.

Fuck these fucking dreams. This is not how I wanted to start my bloody day!!

Anonymous asked: where are you from?


So I’ve spent the last two days wondering what I ever did on my weekends when I was single. Only just realised I’ve always been busy studying. This is the first time really in my life I haven’t been a student.

Busy having the biggest fucking freak out I may have ever had

I’m horribly afraid of becoming dependant on you. I’m afraid that letting myself miss you only means you have the power to hurt me. The fear of which is what’s stopping me from admitting my own feelings.

Lately my rush through life has slowed down a little and I’ve had time to sit and think and reflect and I’ve started to remember just how much crap I’ve pulled myself through. Reminiscing listening to Dashboard Confessional, Our Lady Peace and Coheed and Cambria I’m reminded of highschool and some not so great times that when all is said and done have made me the person I am today. Usually I forget about these times, like I remember them but I don’t really remember them. I often remember what happened but I rarely remember how I felt. It also makes me think of friends I have since lost touch with. Friends who I used to be so close with, who didn’t make it out as well as I did. Friends who still struggle on a daily basis just as much as they did back then. I honestly don’t know how I managed to come through this side how I have. This reminiscing must have prompted something else deep in my brain because suddenly I saw my little puppy and remembered again why (not so) secretly he’ll always be my favourite. Coming out of my last relationship and trying to leave 12 months of breakup nightmare behind me, I found him and he saved me. Countless times I would just sit and cuddle him to stop myself from breaking down. Just him being there and trusting me after all the abuse he’d been subjected to before I found him made me feel better. I felt needed and loved. How sad yet beautiful that I found that not in my family or friends, but in my dog. It’s not that my family or friends didn’t love me I guess, but I didn’t feel it. I was numb to everything and maybe it was that despite having been abused to the point of being broken, Midi could find it in himself to trust me, I was forced to realise that I had to learn that again as well.

So many feels