We are so full of life, quite literally; our lungs fill with air, our hearts tirelessly pump blood and beat with intensity. And how incredibly bizarre I thought it was, that here we are alive, with not the slightest clue how to live.
I want to live simply. I want to sit by the window when it rains and read books I’ll never be tested on. I want to paint because I want to, not because I’ve got something to prove. I want to listen to my body, fall asleep when the moon is high and wake up slowly, with no place to rush off to. I want not to be governed by money or clocks or any of the artificial restraints that humanity imposes on itself. I just want to be, boundless and infinite.
You act like you don’t care about any of this. You don’t care what happened to us. I’m nothing to you. I feel invisible to you. You’re happy without me and I can’t change that. I always think about you and me and the memories we had together. Honestly, I can’t talk to you anymore. It’s gonna be hard for me but for you I guess it should be easy. I never thought someone could hurt me so much.