26 май, 2016

dead inside

I keep discovering new definitions of hell. Hell is what came after I finally told him. Well... It ended. And I can play it a hundred times over and over in my head and it won't change a thing. Because I'm never the one, hell, I don't even count for much. It's the story of my life, so why should it start to change now. 
I'm functioning relatively normal, mostly pretending for everyone else and hoping to actually feel fine. Otherwise I cry when I finally make it home after a long day because I miss talking to him and having him around and in return for my love confession I get radio silence because it's the scariest thing in the world that someone who has been hurt time and again before has managed to fall for you and you can't even give her a real chance. 
Anyway... I decided to redo my old tattoo because it's as good a time as any and it might bring me back my inspiration and faith in my own damn self. I seriously can't seem a point in anything I'm doing these days and work seems to be the only relief because it keeps me busy and I don't have to remember anything. I don't even have the diary. It must be the realest love letter I've ever given to someone. 
I feel like some part of me is dying yet again and I don't want it to die because I want to love again some day but at the same time I hope I become dead inside so I never have to feel that way ever again. I'm pushing back the old habits and fighting the urge to do stupid things that will only lead to more problems afterwards. I need to get through this by myself somehow.
There is some magic in the fact that the weather has been bipolar, matching the way I feel lately. The next few months will be an interesting period of my life. And by interesting I mean a new circle of hell. I know I've survived worse but I was hoping I'd finally stop comforting myself in such a way. Well, things keep happening and they suck, so... I get points for breathing.

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