Ice baby.

You didn't really break my heart. It's not possible. It's like an ice brick. Not pack, Not one of those squishy things that melt after a couple of hours. Im talking hardcore ice brick. Lasts for days. Years. That's what my emotional spectrum consists of. Ice. Really though, that isn't the point. We had a conversation. You told me how you got so hurt, how you would always want to take things slowly because you were so afraid. You told me how you couldn't trust people and how you were so worried about going overseas in case they hurt you while you were gone.  You told me about your family and how important they were, and how honest of a person you were. I believed you.

See the problem is,  people know who I am. People tell me things. My life is like a real life gossip girl episode. People tell me things, because I am honest. I don't tell secrets if people don't want them told. I don't gossip about people, mostly because I don't care about the "gossip". I don't hurt people. Certainly not on purpose, if ever. So here's the thing, when you decided to fuck me around, you picked the wrong person. And for someone who was so intent on not getting hurt, you sure do a good job of being a hypocrite. Cool, glad we cleared that up.

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