When you have no outlet for your pain and your fears, you end up caught in a cycle of self-destructive thoughts. You may turn to anything and everything to try to numb your brain, but it only helps temporarily.
It would be a wonderful friendship, if it wasn’t for the inconvenient truth that I’m still in love with you.
It seems obscene that the human body is capable of producing so much grief without shriveling up completely to grant some sort of ending release.
My brand of strength is nothing more than a coping mechanism, a way to survive. I rise above the sadness by smothering it with shame, but it’s always there, growing with every disappointment and heartbreak.