Ari

I never really got to say goodbye, and I think that’s what fucked me up.

I promised you I would try my hardest to live for the two of us, but sometimes it’s so hard.

I really do miss you more than I thought I would.

Everyone around me seems to die, except me. And I bet I’m the only one that wants it.

They tell you that you can count on them, that you can tell them everything without trouble. But once you do, once you let them see just a piece of who you really are, they look at you with those eyes. The eyes that scream judgement, that can’t recognize you, that look at you with pity. And all you know, is that you couldn’t count on them either.

I wish you could come down a minute, to talk to you, to see you, to hug you one last time.

I live in constant pain.

I wish I could explain why sometimes I just feel like getting away from everything, from everyone.

And every time I look at those scars, they remind me how much I hate myself.

I’m not living for myself anymore. I stay alive just so I don’t hurt them, yet they call me selfish.

Being sad is so comforting. You never have to care about it going away.

I don’t really get disappointed anymore, because I learnt not to expect anything from anyone, not even from myself.

I distance myself from people, because once they get to know me, they will do it by themselves.

No one could hate me as much as I hate myself.

People tell you to fight for what you want, but what I want is something that I don’t have to fight for, in fact, I just have to give up completely.