Ho chiuso con il tuo falso amore, cazzo!

Perché oggi è così difficile avere relazioni normali? Nulla di straordinario, solo una relazione con impegno e fedeltà. Senza foto di cazzi indesiderati, ghosting e profili multipli attivi sulle app di incontri.

God knows I’m not asking for much. I gave up on dreaming about that movie kind of love that feels like Christmas morning. I gave up on that love story where you two meet and the whole world finally makes sense.

At this point, I’m just looking for someone who will love me like I love him. Someone who will care about me as much as I care about him.

I’m done with these mezzo scemo relazioni.

Nulla nella vostra vita dovrebbe essere fatto a metà, soprattutto la vostra relazione. Non siamo stati messi al mondo per essere amati occasionalmente, perché meritiamo di essere amati in ogni momento e oltre.

We deserve to be loved at our worst, not only at best. Same like we’re ready to love someone else, he should be ready to love us as well.

I’m done con questi stronzi, imbroglioni e cagasotto.

It’s all the same, really. Someone who is not ready to commit to just one person is nothing more than a boy. And as long as it’s all fun and games, one-night stands and whatnot, it’s fine.

But being played by a fuckboy, where he knew from the first moment he will never commit, but still had indecency to make you believe he will, that’s straight hell. Playing with someone else’s emotions and heart is a shit move to do.

I’m done with these emotionally unavailable men.

It’s like loving a wall. You are doing all you can, giving your everything and putting a shit ton of effort, but for nothing. There’s no reaction; there are no emotions. Nothing.

It feels like you’re screaming at him, pouring out your heart and all you can hear is an echo of your own words. The pain in your own voice is surrounding you, draining you, destroying you. And yet, there’s not a single reaction from him. Not one.

And I’m so fucking done with you.

Con il tuo falso amore.

Con il vostro promesse vuote e parole vuote.

I deserve more than to hope that you will come around, more than to hope that someday you will see how lucky you are. Because damn it, I’m worth it.

All of it. I deserve more than just people who take away parts of me. I deserve more than to look at someone’s back when they’re leaving me.

I deserve love. I deserve devotion. I deserve explanation when things go south. I’m so done with coming up with answers on my own, so done doubting myself and my worth because someone is unable to love me. So tired of thinking it’s always my fault people leave.

I’m so done with whatever this was between us because it sure as hell wasn’t love.

Forse pensavate che fosse così, forse pensavate che contava se lo dicevate voi. Forse hai pensato che una pacca sulla spalla occasionale fosse sufficiente a confortarmi.

Forse pensavi che i messaggi occasionali su quanto è bello il mio corpo fossero sufficienti a farmi sentire desiderata.

But that’s not love.

Non significa nulla se mi mandi un messaggio se al momento sei con un'altra persona. Non significa nulla se cerchi di confortarmi perché sei tu che hai causato il mio dolore.

Sei tu la causa del mio dolore. Non significa nulla se dici di amarmi perché non me l'hai mai dimostrato.

Significa solo che avete solo parole.

Le azioni non fanno per voi.

And I deserve a real deal. I deserve someone who will respect me and my feelings. I deserve someone who will be there next to me. I don’t need him to kiss the ground I walk on. I don’t need him to fight my battles or carry me around like a drop of water on a palm.

I just need him to be there. To kiss me and tell me that I got it. To hug me and make me feel loved. I don’t need empty promises and words. I just need to feel it.

I don’t need to be spoiled, I just need to be respected. And I don’t need another scopatore nella mia vita. Ho bisogno di un uomo. Un vero uomo.

But until then, I’m going to love myself the best way I can. At least I’ll know it’s real.