From a 2019 which meant everything to going back to ground zero at the turn of the new year and battling my range of emotions while holding on to what feels like nothing today. That's what kills a person -- the unsure piece. Whether they are truly wanted, just being settled for or are scrap now.
I am broken once more and I don't even know how to fix things. I have tried talking, sharing. And all I'm met with is silence. And I know the answer is to get out now before the damage on my psyche gets worse but the fear of ending something I believe is wonderful is terrifying. It will take me a long time to recover and the fear of another failure when I'm failing professionally too is something I am unable to bear.
How did I get here? Other than pouring my heart out -- again, I'm a fucking fool to believe people care. No one does. Everyone is so guarded that if you let your guard down they just come pummel you to pieces and leave. Every fucking time.
I remember Bangalore playing saviour to my battered soul, this time I will have no cubby hole to crawl into and die. And the shame and disappointment. Thinking, yes, this is it. This is mine.
I've always known love wasn't written in my stars. This time I thought maybe you're giving me a chance. That you'd have heard my silent prayer. But I'm wrong, aren't I? There is no love for me. Just loneliness. And that's okay. I've been alone so long, I'll settle back into my second skin. But this time I won't come out. Because I don't have any fight left in me. I'm done.
I am broken once more and I don't even know how to fix things. I have tried talking, sharing. And all I'm met with is silence. And I know the answer is to get out now before the damage on my psyche gets worse but the fear of ending something I believe is wonderful is terrifying. It will take me a long time to recover and the fear of another failure when I'm failing professionally too is something I am unable to bear.
How did I get here? Other than pouring my heart out -- again, I'm a fucking fool to believe people care. No one does. Everyone is so guarded that if you let your guard down they just come pummel you to pieces and leave. Every fucking time.
I remember Bangalore playing saviour to my battered soul, this time I will have no cubby hole to crawl into and die. And the shame and disappointment. Thinking, yes, this is it. This is mine.
I've always known love wasn't written in my stars. This time I thought maybe you're giving me a chance. That you'd have heard my silent prayer. But I'm wrong, aren't I? There is no love for me. Just loneliness. And that's okay. I've been alone so long, I'll settle back into my second skin. But this time I won't come out. Because I don't have any fight left in me. I'm done.
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