first rule of fight club
- no fightin!…shakira shakiraaa
sunglasses emoji only wears his shades to hide the tears
I know now it wasn’t about you. I just wanted somebody to be close to. // You see, you were like breakfast. You were always there, waiting, a part of my everyday routine. Every morning was a good morning because I could always rely on my breakfast. And each day I wanted a little more. Some days I might have missed it or some days maybe I even skipped it but it was never far from reach. Some days it was sweet, some times it was sour. But it always filled me with the most unexplainable feelings. Though, some nights i’d think I didn’t need breakfast, that I’d be fine without it, but every morning it was like I needed it again. Like a hit. An addiction, of course, an addiction to breakfast. But then one uncertainly bad day it was as if breakfast was confiscated. My breakfast had been cancelled, for the rest of my life! And as soon as my breakfast was gone, I craved it more. I realised how it filled in the gaps in my day and how I relied on it to give me that burst of energy or to make me a little more hopeful about things. I started to think that breakfast was essential to life. I forgot about the other meals too and for a while I spent all my time thinking about a time when I could have breakfast. When I wasn’t so alone. I didn’t want anything else, I didn’t want brunch, I didn’t want a snack, I didn’t want cupcakes. I wanted breakfast. I even dreamt about breakfast. And I had a nostalgic memory of breakfast and it was so irresistible. I even saw other people eating breakfast, enjoying what I could not, and that was like mass murder. People told me to find new breakfast, sweeter breakfast, better breakfast, but they didn’t understand. They hadn’t tasted this breakfast. But, you see, as time went on, I learnt to ignore it. I learnt that every time I thought of breakfast I was just going back 3 steps. And every time I thought about having breakfast again I realised that I was only making things worse. So I distracted myself with the calamity of each day. Sometimes breakfast would cross my mind, and sometimes it’d even linger, but it was merely a memory blowing in the wind, as real as my mind could create. I learnt to view it as a once-had delicacy, never to be disturbed again. And eventually breakfast was so much a figment of my imagination that I even questioned it’s existence. But I grew away from my bitterness and started to realise that I just wanted someone to be close to, and I just wanted something that was always there, and that was once you but it never would be again.
Like I said, you used to be my breakfast. But eventually, after a lot of kicking and screaming on my part, well, you just weren’t anymore.
Breakfast and you. (written by foxxies)