Sometimes I donโt understand myself. One minute Iโm in love, the next Iโm depressed, then Iโm lonely, then somehow Iโm happy again. And most of the time? Iโm just sick. At this point, Iโm not even sure if I need therapy, a vacation, or a software update.
And most of all,
I hate that after everything,
some part of me still wishes
you had been the person I thought you were.
Fuck you for breaking something in me
that I never thought you could reach.