Im having this memory of me laying in my bed not being able to sleep, around this time last year. I was having very vivid thoughts of me jumping or wanting to jump from my roof and into my pool with big rocks in my pockets or tied to my ankles or something that would help me drown, I wanted nothing but to feel the water filling my lungs. I remember laying in my bed,crying and screaming trying to tell my brain to shut up. I was depressed and lonely and I didn’t realize why. I felt bad because I thought I had you, and you loved me, and I was being selfish. I thought that was painful. But I’m laying here thinking of the times I was emotionless and numb while I let you use my mind and my body, without saying nothing but I love you. When I knew you were hurting me and I knew all you were going to do was hurt me. No one else knew. But I knew. And I let you. Not because I really loved you. Or I wanted to be with you, or because I thought that’s how you felt too. Even though you said it a million times, I knew none of it was true. But I still stayed. I stayed for no reason other than, that’s what I felt like I deserved. I knew that love that wasn’t really love would make me sick, because it did ever since it first started. But I didn’t care at all. I’ve never been really that into drugs. Or going out and doing reckless shit. Or fucking hella people to make myself feel better. And I’ve never thought of a relationship as a form of self destruction. But when you give yourself, all your love and energy. To someone who’s nothing but empty, it sounds cliché as fuck. But you kind of become just as empty.
