Over myself, over my futility, and over my heartbreak.
I am just over the nothingness of what I am to him, to me, to all of this, this very world I live in.
I can’t take it.
I hate every tick of these sentences, every beat, every moment.
I hate every word that I write and nothing is getting better and I am in this very blank space, vast and empty, a sheet of white paper against a white wall.
I am too old to feel this.
I am too sensible to be here, in this state with my heart.
I am too aware to be this ridiculous.
Why??? Why did I let this happen? What should be remembered with a crooked smile on my face and glimmer in my eye, is instead so painful…my bones ache.
Going into radio silence.
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