It’s looking at the pictures of you together and almost deleting them but you can’t because at least you could know you were happy with them. It’s going onto your other Facebook just to see how they’re doing. It’s regret after selling your paintings of them because even thousands of dollars won’t ever heal the hole they burned through your heart. It’s saving that very first painting you did of them and crying looking at it because it’s so perfect and so beautiful because that’s what first made them really appreciate you. It’s almost calling their phone late late at night but hanging up before they pick up. It’s driving around their university hoping you can see them again but ending up going home alone and even more heart broken. It’s always hearing their voice and they way they said your name. It’s always smelling their smell in the blanket you laid in now matter how many times you’ve washed it. It’s never forgetting the way their body feels when they hug you even though their chest is bony and frail. It’s never forgetting the way you held them and kissed the top of their head because they are the most darling and precious thing in the universe and all you desire to do is hold them so snugly and tight and protect them with your life. It’s crying when you’re alone because you know you fucked up and they’re happy with someone else. It’s wondering what you did so wrong to them that made them feel such a way about you. It’s never being able to forget their face no matter how hard you try. It’s almost jumping off a roof because you can’t imagine a life without them and you don’t want to. It’s tying a noose and putting it around your neck and standing on a chair but you’re too scared to kick the chair over just in case you might have a chance to see them again. It’s knowing you can’t kill yourself because if you ever wanted to see him again you’d have to go to heaven because he’s an angel and suicide is sin. It’s drinking so much you get your stomach pumped at least one a month and are genuinely angry your own body refuses to let you die. It’s being so angry at every happy couple because you want that same thing with only them. It’s constantly filling a void with money and fame because your heart is so broken and so hurt that you do all you can to distract yourself. It’s feeling so horrible because you just want to love them and they wish you no longer existed. It’s driving around with a loaded gun in your car and the very last second you decide not to get crazy. It’s going to work at a mental hospital acting like you’re completely fine when deep down you know you are without doubt the most deeply disturbed and genuinely psychotic human being within the whole entire institute and yet you are responsible for taking care of those inhabiting the fully padded walls when you know you should be in there too. It’s knowing how to be calm and courteous. It’s understanding life must go on even if your heart is so desperately smashed to pieces it feels like it can barely pump blood throughout your body and sustain life. It’s wondering if being a successful clinical trial research subject in several case studies on depression and suicide have helped others out there feeling the same way. It’s knowing it’s not crazy to be sad and you can be successful and make plenty of money with a broken heart. It’s feeling so alone and accepting sadness and regret as a part of every day life. It’s learning love besides romantic love is important. I’m so deeply upset every day of my life but it won’t keep me from living. All the money and fame in the world will never make me happy and I’ve come to accept that that’s ok. If he doesn’t love me and I can’t kill myself I’ll have to live with that.
Can I just say I hate everyone at the moment. Like… Fuck you. Fuck every single one of you. /enndrant gonna go fucking not talk to anyone for a couple more hours before passing out. Fuck you and come again soon.