but before it all went wrong, i think that was the happiest i've ever been in my life.
i still write out texts to you whenever something happens, only to delete them because i remember i’m not your person anymore. it's so heavy carrying all this love with nowhere for it to go.
i don't want revenge. i just hope one day you realize how genuine i was.
depression in fiction is almost always written as sadness. Crying, staring out windows, saying bleak things. and sometimes it is that. But a lot of the time it's nothing. It's your character doing the dishes and feeling nothing about the dishes or anything else. It's getting through a day that should have feeling in it and finding only flatness. It's laughing at a joke and noticing you laughed and feeling separate from the laugh
what am i supposed to do if i can’t force myself to move on from you?
I keep telling myself to stop checking your profile, stop replaying old conversations, and stop hoping you’ll come back.
But every time I try, something pulls me right back. I still catch myself wanting to text you about random things or wondering how you’re doing.
I know staying stuck isn’t healthy. I know I deserve better than waiting for someone who already walked away. But forcing myself to “get over it” feels impossible when my heart still hasn’t caught up with the reality
. Some days I feel okay, and then one small memory hits me and I’m right back where I started.
I’m trying. I really am. But right now it still feels like I’m stuck between knowing I need to let go and not knowing how to actually do it.
I finally see. I’m the one who is wrong for you. Wrong person. I don’t give you what you deserve. And I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.
my biggest mistake was thinking that you cared about me. I believed every soft word, every late night conversation, and every moment that felt real.
I kept showing up for you because I thought the effort was mutual. I told myself that the distance and inconsistency were temporary, and that deep down you still valued what we had.
But looking back, the signs were always there. You only showed up when it was easy for you. You took my patience for granted and never really matched the energy I gave.
I was the only one holding on while you slowly let go without ever saying it out loud.
This is me finally accepting the truth. It hurts to admit that I spent so much time caring for someone who never truly cared back.
I’m done convincing myself that your actions meant something they didn’t.