Every single day since then I wish I could go back and stick up for what I believed in. I could’ve got over getting slapped, getting punched or getting pushed like you did time and time again. I could’ve dealt with a bruise or a broken bone, it would’ve healed faster than this, it would’ve went away in time. But not this feeling. I fucking hate myself for letting it happen. I hate that it’s you. I hate that it happened. It’s never supposed to be that way. I look at him and wish it was him. Because I know he wouldn’t change after. I know he wouldn’t leave if he didn’t get any. I know that he would love me for me and not for what I provide. I would do anything to go back and change it. Maybe then I’d feel more at peace with myself. Maybe I wouldn’t hate myself so much, or have nightmares about it. I would’ve rather got hit, punched or pushed than have to live with having that connection with you. Fuck. You.
my mom said ‘Hitler was a penis potato’
and i have never been more confused in my life
until she looked at me like i was stupid and said ‘dictator… penis potato… god its like you’re not even my daughter’
i am so fucking done
If you played with Barbies,
Slip N’ Slide,
Listened to the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, NSync and the Spice Girls
On Hit Clips, a Boom Box, or a Walkman,
Collected and traded Pokemon cards,
Wrote with Gel Pens,
Wore butterfly clips,
And Snap Bracelets,
And remember watching these guys:
You are a 90s kid.
Creys. This is my entire childhood in one post.
2,121,566 people are not Ashley and counting!
We’ll find you Ashley.
This post is scandalous.
reblogging because ashley cant.
If you scroll past this I am going to assume your name is Ashley.
I couldn’t not reblog…
I have a name, and it is not Ashley.
MY NAME IS ALANNAH