Actually most of the time I try to refrain from writing post when I'm ass out but this time it was that I had the thought to post an intriguing muse. A story. It wasn't negative even though the experience was both good and bad but... Alas in the end I was going to end it with a positive and happy note. Now, not so much.
Nothing has changed actually I just stopped lying to myself.
I do not wish to relive the story presently the purpose of this post is no longer about that.
Actually I'm not sure what it's about anymore.
I guess I'm just hurt, like always.
I can't stop hurting. Thinking about my future and hating it. Hating how fake the hurt will make me become. How tired I will be of pretending to be ok.
I hate the back and forth.
I miss the silent beauty of not having to worry about my heart. I was always alone. Relationships suck so after I got out of my last one I was determined to shy away from that shit. Didn't end up like that, someone else had something else in mind. Now I'm just writing stories. Feeling hurt.
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