What Did I Do

That made you remove me from your life completely. That drove you away. That made you not want to have anything to do with me anymore.

I'm so hurt.

I'm so so so so hurt.

You Finally Did

You finally unfollowed me.

That sounds so millennial but, you finally unfollowed me. And wow. It hurts a lot more than I thought it would. It's like another stab in the heart.

I feel sick.

I feel like throwing up.

I know I unfollowed you ages ago. But that's different. Because you broke up with me.

You said you still cared - "can I still text you some time?"

But you never did.

And you unfollowing me just makes me feel like you no longer care anymore. Like you want nothing to do with me.

Like I never mattered.

And fuck does it hurt.

FUCK.

Why Is It So Hard

In fits of tears. Again.

Howling but silent.

I’m bent over. My soul feels like it’s clawing it’s way out.

You.

Did this to me.

Or I.

Did this to myself.

I don’t get it.

WHY. Is it so. Fucking. Hard. To get over you. To let you go. To let us go. To forget the memories.

To. Stop. Crying.

Swollen red tired eyes. Broken shattered tired soul.

No One Helps

Fucking tired of being there for everyone and helping them but having no one here helping  me.

Maybe I’m the problem.

People try to be there for me but they never say or do  the right things, and then I get annoyed and frustrated.

I just.

No one fucking gets it. No one knows what to say to me. No one knows how to help me.

I want to disappear from this world.

I want to

fucking

die

'Tis The Season To Be

I'm terrified of this festive season. Because, this time last year, I was the happiest I'd ever been. And now, fast forward a year, I'm the unhappiest I've ever been.

All because of one person.

So. Many. Memories.

Some times, I don't want anything to do with you anymore.

But other times, like tonight, I just want to reach for you and have you hold me like you'd done times and times before.

God I'm pathetic.

I really, really, really, need someone to hold me.

Like A Paper Cut

It's addictive. It's satisfactory. It's anger-driven. 

Like a paper cut - first nothing. Then the skin reddens and the blood slowly starts to show and the cut starts to burn. And you stare. And you watch. And you're angry. And you're numb. But you reach and you want to do it again.

Because somehow, it makes sense.