My boyfriend and I broke up.
I initiated it, but he wanted it too anyway.
I'm devestated.
All the good songs, all the good films, all the good times - I shared them all with him.
They remind me of 'us'.
It would never have worked out, he's too much into drugs and partying to spend quality time with me.
Whenever he came over he was tired and moody, and he'd sleep on my bed or blame me for his bad mood, calling me anti-social.
But at the start, before the drugs, or at least when I thought he wasn't doing drugs (he recently confessed to me that he never quit, and he usually was stoned when he came to my house) he was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
I still see him as that.
He taught me the meaning of unconditional love.
I feel like a part of me has died, the part of me with him - the soft, vulnerable, crazy-in-love girl who was happy for the first time in her whole fucking life.
He couldn't decide if he wanted to be in a relationship, he kept changing his mind, saying he wanted to break up.
The third serious case of this happened the other day, that's when I ended it for good.
There is no going back.
I miss him already.
He commented a girl's picture saying she looked hot (yes I went on his Facebook) and I died inside.
He loved me. He said it himself, and I know he did.
So why didn't he want to be with me?