The end

A strong woman once said that if you leave him and he comes back, well then he’s a keeper. What if you did that and he doesn’t come back? Then you’re screwed. I guess I’m screwed. It feels like I’m screwed, but I’m not backing out. It hurts all the way into my soul, but I’m done being understanding and sitting on my ass. I did the only thing I could, but it didn’t end well. I’m a wreck, but alive which is more than I have been before. I guess I just need to hold my head up high and think about the wonderful things that are coming my way, but who I won’t be able to share with the one I love.. loved.. love.

I’m not empty yet, but I can feel it slowly running out of me and the tears aren’t that many as in the past. Is this a sign that I did the right thing? Perhaps or perhaps not. I guess time will tell if this was the right thing or not, but I’m not backing out. I did my time. I served. I was there. I’m done fighting.
I’m done living like I have. I’m on the train to change. It hurts, like ripping off a bandage from a new cut. It stings like hell for some time until it suddenly stops.

I did cut again, this time it was deep. I needed it to calm myself down. No pills this time, at least not yet. I’m doing okay. It has been one or two hours and I’m doing okay if you don’t count the cuts. I’ll be okay. I just need to breathe. Just need to breathe. Just need to cry. Just need to be alone. Just need alcohol. Need to forget. Need to buried all the memories. I’ll be okay. I’m strong ain’t I?


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