There's nothing interesting about me, except the fact that I really should stop switching blogs.

Another pretentious way of saying "Bitch, please."

I don't know how, I don't know when, but here's one thing I do know which responsibility lies solely on me - that you, in every aspect of an ex, a friend right down to your existence, will stay the fuck out of my life.

Maybe one day—a day I of right now cannot foresee at all—we can exist on amicable terms. Till that day dawns upon us, I cannot be in your life as much I wished you were in mine. I've closed one too many doors just to knock on yours, but the lock stubbornly remains still. My knuckles are sore, my patience left to despair. I cry for an answer, but you're not home.

I'm done. I hope you are too.
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