Alright guys, this is it…
It’s the big day. It’s Deactivation Day.
It’s something I’ve been putting off for a really long time, but it needs to be done. But there are also things I need to explain, not just for some people who probably maybe once clicked on my blog and accidentally hit the follow button on the way back to their dash, but for me, too.
Now, I’m sitting here in my basement, listening to Mr. Brightside by The Killers, and I am doing something I don’t usually do.
I’m letting myself be emotional.
Okay, so, last year was… bad. I was at that stage where you don’t really know anything about yourself and you just want to cry all of the time because everything is so stupid and frustrating. I got into this little hole called depression and i couldn’t seem to climb my way back out. That being said, I’m still struggling with climbing out. But it isn’t as bad as it was then. Last year, first I went through this little phase I like to call “The Realization”. I was on tumblr one day and I remember the moment that I just completely shut down and made a post saying I wouldn’t be coming back. Of course, I didn’t keep that promise for longer than two months because I was bored out of my mind. So, I came back. But I wasn’t actually back. I was just there. My mind was elsewhere. And eventually I got into different stuff. I started listening to different music, and I fell in love with it. I guess that’s all that really happened. I’m recovering now, and that’s all that really matters, right? Right. I’m gonna miss you guys. So. Fucking. Much. But people move on. It’s time for me to move on.
So I guess this is goodbye…
It’s actually the end…
Love Always…
Wishing you the best.
I’ll miss you.
So.
Much.
RIP “Just Another Directioner”
April 2012-March 2013
This is harder than I thought…
But I need to do this…
Goodbye,
Not For Forever,
Just a long, long while…
The worst part of being a writer is knowing exactly what you want to say and not knowing how to word it.
“you do tile?”
“si.”
Can we just talk about this?
As soon as he leans forward even slightly, all four of the boys reach out to grab him. Niall puts his arm around his chest, Zayn reaches around his middle, Liam tightens his grip on his legs, and Harry’s hand shoots out to grab his shirt and pull him back.
Forget ships, forget who likes who and who doesn’t.
The point is: everyone loves Louis Tomlinson.
I don’t get waves of Harry feels anymore. They’re more like tsunami tides in my eyes.
