When I think about you, I feel empty. Like I’m grasping for a feeling that should be there that isn’t. Occasionally I get the urge to call you, but remind myself, “what good will it do? What has he done to make me happy? Furthermore, what has he done to hurt and destroy me?” I contemplate this battle, and one side always wins. As much as I wish to know he’s ok, I also long to feel happy within myself, to feel pure joy without conflict. It’s strange that you can’t turn off love, but once it manifests to hate it’s extremely hard to go back to the light. There may hve been good times but I can hardly recall them, my brain gave up on my heart a long time ago and it seems it’s decided to only retain the bad memories…
He will remain in my heart, shrouded in shadow and in doubt. A small part of that naive girl I once was will always love him, but the grown woman in me knows better than to destroy myself once more. Farewell to my destructive love, I only hope one day you can be the man I know you are inside, and perhaps make someone happy, as it will never be me.
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