You'll be damned to pining through the windowpanes you know?

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick
Sweet as a song
The years have been short but the days were long.

I can't help but feel as if this is all my fault. I know that deep down I've gone wrong somewhere; I've done something I shouldn't have or said something the completely wrong way. I've let something amazing slip through my fingers and have no one to blame but myself. 

One day, I'll be good at this,  I'll be able to say and do all the right things. But until then I guess I should just get used to flying solo (WARNING, cynical lols ahead: "though it feels a little more like crash and burn solo, amiright?").

Well, that was a depressing blog entry. So here's pretty much my thoughts at the moment in short:

Fuck our human nature and that most primal desire which is to feel loved (and therefore continue our race).

Fuck the fact that I'm not good at this whole 'women' business.

Fuck the fact that the combination of these two make for one relatively unhappy individual.

And most of all, fuck the fact that I only gauge my self-esteem on other's views of me (writing it down will change nothing).

I guess I'll just raise my glass and keep it in eh?