You know I'm such a fool for you

It came to my attention recently, while I was laying on my bed staring into space (happens a lot, generally when I should be doing work) that someone had etched into my noticeboard their name, next to a whole chunk of bloody notice board scratched off and a (poor excuse for a) love heart. 

Exhibit A.

From what I gather, Jake must have had his heart broken from a name I can only see being Shaniqua. You may think it's none of my business, but seen as Jake obviously used to live in the room I currently do, I now sleep on the same mattress they used to destroy each other on. I guess you could basically say I'm a counter part to the whole relationship, so it's now my business. I wondered for a bit what must have happened for him to maim the noticeboard like that. Whatever it is, big shout out to my girl Shaniqua, this is why we can't have nice things. But when I was thinking about what happend (just call me Cap'n Creepy) I wondered if Jake ever regretted scratching her name out like that. We all do it don't we? We give our heart to someone, most of the time unknowingly, and then watch them break it. We wonder if they ever really gave a damn because it sure doesn't feel like it. We stop listening to songs or bands so we don't think about them. We block out memories and ignore everything that reminds us of them because it's too painful to fathom that while you're hurting on the inside, they're absolutely fine. We say hateful things about them to our friends, delete the messages that once filled us with butterflies and we throw away items that were given to us by them. It feels good as you begin to realise you're okay without them. It feels good until they come back. They come back and they say things, wonderful things that make you feel as though everything is beautiful. They click and you come running. You regret throwing things away, you try to recreate the messages, or remember them, you start listening to the songs again and you happily relive your memories. You wish that you didn't scratch out their name on your noticeboard because those hateful feelings have disappeared, they're making you happy again. Until one day, they're gone. And that's it. It's kind of sad that a person can make you feel like that. That someone can mean so much to you, while you simultaneously mean so little to them.

I hope that Jake is out there and he's happy. Because that feeling of despair is a shitty one. Unless Jake is a massive weirdo stalker, then I don't really care.