The Beginning of the End of Me

I no longer have friends. I don't want them. I don't want to talk to anyone, to fake smiles, to pretend I care about anything outside of who I used to be. I loathe this life. I constantly try to remove myself from the idea of us so that I can heal and move forward but I don't. I am still stuck, trapped in my contempt for what is my current life, longing for life in my memories. I dream that I'm still beautiful and loved but I am here and it is now. I wish I had never looked your way. I wish I had never caused you so much sadness that you wanted to destroy any part of us. I wish I had just fallen off the face of the earth before I ever met you. I am completely full of regret. Not for loving you, but for ruining what I love so much. I'm still pretending I'm alright. I'm still politely nodding, saying I'm great, moving "forward". In reality, I long for silence, peace, to be removed from this. I'm coming apart. Living just enough, but nothing worth being alive for.

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