𖦹 synopsis: expired reader has been told shes dying, but how much does it matter if shes always wanted to anyways? joel miller is heartbroken to be losing the woman he never shared his feelings for - until now.
𖦹 warnings: no outbreak au, sickness, emotional numbness, suicidal ideation, health anxiety, consistent theme of death, flashback scene, reader is implied to be the same age as joel or close to it but its not heavily mentioned, mentions of panic attacks and nightmares, implied eating disorder, heavy self hate, kissing, joel is WHIPPED, mentions of a desire to self injure, lots of crying and some arguing, heavily implied death (written as peaceful).
𖦹 taglist: @hauntedbymiller @sexiedeemedfreak
no pressure tags: (interacted with my other post so u might like this one !!) :> : @littledes1re @mcthsman @saymony @ultrasafecake-reblogs @natanielkovack @moonlitsmile @isabella-rose-trastamara @glittergrenade
𖦹 wc: 5.4k ( one shot )
There wasn't much for you to process.
"there are procedures and medications we can look into.."
it's not like you had exactly been living anyway.
"you're likely to experience severe abdominal pain.."
Dying is the easy part. Everything that comes before is much more painful. Death is just the end of pain. The end of the happiness and the end of it all.
"We are able to schedule regular appointments.."
you wanted this right?
"your life isn't over.."
This is what you begged for. This is what you prayed for.
"We'll give you some time to think and we can talk about the plan going forward.."
The same eyes you wore as a child that drowned you over everything small, are the ones now dry as you're presented with your own death sentence.
"We understand this isn't easy.."
After the longest time, you now have something to look forward to.
The phantom pressure in your neck tightens. warmth clinging to your eyes while you try to swallow down relentless sobs.
The road passes the window, your grip on the seat belt to ground yourself. Your entire body is tense and you can't relax. cyclical thoughts of how you can't breathe, you can't function, you can't do anything.
you don't know how you're supposed to feel.
you've spent your entire life begging for the end and now you're a walking time bomb. you don't even know when it'll happen. It could be tomorrow, it could be in one month or six. It could be right this second.
or this second. or this one.
Is it bad that you want it to be?
saves you from waiting. and everyone else.
your upset morphs into bitterness. of course the death you get involves having a probable psychological reset, ending up in seeing the value in living for once. Why couldn't it just happen?
like a heart attack or a car crash. It's wrong to want but you can't stand waiting. the hyper-attentitive listening to your breath, your pulse. hoping they'll just stop. they don't. but one day you'll go to check and they will. and it'll all be over.
how the fuck would anyone cope knowing that?
"what you thinkin'?"
he reaches his hand over to you, inviting it as an alternate to the seat belt you were still choking. you accept the offer - fiddling with his fingers.
How do you explain this to mr perfect? mr nothing-ever-shoots-him-down. Joel wouldn't consider himself as far as mr happy, but he's your happy.
"'m angry. I think."
"Me too." His voice was softer than his implication.
his thumb caresses the skin of your thigh, your gaze fixed on the front view mirror. You're glad he came with you to the appointment. you don't think you could've reiterated what the doctors and everyone said. You also weren't entirely listening.
All you had to do was ask him to come and he did. simple enough to say but he's the only person in your life who would. it’s always trades and even split deals with everyone else instead of actually caring about you enough to just do it.
but at the same time, you know why Joel does it. He isn't exactly shy about his feelings, constantly flirting and staring. It's purer than perceivable but that makes it all the harder to accept. Being around Joel feels like living, which is more than you feel worthy of.
"dunno what im supposed to do." you mumble out.
Joel pauses before responding, "what d'ya wanna do?"
die. live. suffocate. survive.
it feels as though you've been living that cycle since you were born.
rotting. waiting.
Does the death sentence actually change anything?
watching. listening.
you always thought you'd pass away by your own hand. Isn't this essentially the same?
breathing.
Do you change nothing? Do you pretend you're the same?
"could do anything you want." he continues, interrupting your emotional spiral from unravelling further. "what's first?"
his hand quickly shifts to the gearstick, beginning to pull into the driveway of your house. When still, he returns his hand to the place on your thigh, turning his gaze towards you in the passenger seat.
"nothing?"
a small smirk appears on his face. "yeah we can do that."
the movie you don't care about filters the silence of the room. you try to focus on your own breathing - monitoring the normality of it. your head is pressed against Joel’s chest as his arms rest around you. You're certain Joel isn't paying much attention to the movie either.
it's as if you're a walking hypothetical.
People speculate about how they'd react if they found out they had a limited time left to live. It's all fun and games, imagining the perfect reaction and final moments but it's all unrealistic. you can't just decide immediately the best course of action - you can barely name the emotions you feel about the fact you're going to fucking die.
you hear his breath hitch before he takes a deep inhale. oh god.
"can I um- can I ask you somethin’?"
"Joel-"
"I know you don't wanna have this conversation but we need to have it."
you push yourself out of his grasp and sit up, knees pressed close to your chest in avoidance. Joel becomes even slightly timid following the distance you created between you both, sitting up and placing himself beside you.
"you know how I feel." he strains out his words, fearful of how you'd receive them. “and I just, I think we should talk about them while-" you finally meet his gaze to see how glossy his eyes had become. "while we can."
you shift yourself closer - wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while Joel instinctively reciprocates the hug. It's a tight grip, forcing closeness as if you'll evaporate if he isn't quick.
"'m sorry" you whisper while you press kisses near Joel’s greying locks, fingers beginning to twirl them in a soothing manner. You're filled with relief when his breathing settles into an even pace.
"Is it really fair on you, Joel? 'm not-" your voice loses certainty as you feel the warmth return to your eyes. "'m not gonna be here long."
he only hugs you tighter, "don't care."
Joel couldn't just watch you die, not when he'd essentially been doing that since you met. He didn't understand his role, or if he even had one.
Was he supposed to use those final months the way he wanted to spend the years with you as he'd imagined? or was that unfair? he'd have to move on eventually, at least that was your stance on the situation. Joel was sure he wouldn't. Especially not if you left him this soon. You'd formed an imprint on his heart, one that he undoubtedly cherished and always would until the day he died.
"i-i can't, Joel" your voice is laced with regret, the words beginning to echo through Joel’s mind. "I can't" you mutter quietly, repeating it almost as if you're promising something to yourself.
a sob escapes you, Joel retreating slightly to cup your face in his hands gently. He starts wiping the swimming tears as you sob quietly, your hands placed on the top of his. "'s not fair" you mumble.
Joel shakes his head in agreement. you reach your arms back where they were, Joel completing the gesture and wrapping his arms around your lower back, allowing him to cradle you in his lap. He rubbed soothing patterns on your back while you softly weep buried in the crook of his neck.
"I just," you sniff, "just want control over my own life," Joel begins placing delicate kisses on your shoulder blade, each placed with intent as if trying to transfer his own life to yours.
"Could um, make a list? of everything you wanna do?" he whispers softly in between kisses.
you hesitate for a moment before nodding while you rest on Joel’s shoulder.
"not now" you mumble, too exhausted and relaxed against Joel to want to get up.
"Not now, okay" he agrees, "just stay there, yeah?" he begins to lean himself more securely against the headboard as he ensures your comfort in his grasp.
your breathing is calmer now, peering up to admire Joel as he comforts you, fiddling with your hair. Seeing you relax calms Joel down too, able to focus on your breathing while he admires your features.
"Any ideas?" he queries with a small smile on his face, wanting to lighten the atmosphere.
you ponder for a moment, meeting Joel’s loving gaze and scanning his face.
"wanna.. get high" Joel chuckles in response, not having any guesses but regardless, that wasn't what he anticipated.
"yeah?" he smirks, glad to see your personality shine through despite the weight of the day so far.
"and get really drunk" you mirror Joel in giggles, his laugh shaking you as you lay against him. "like say something stupid drunk"
"what's stupid to say?" he says in between small chuckles.
"I dunno, I gotta get drunk and find out!"
your laughs layer together, the same way they always had. reminding you of your whole life thus far, Joel relentlessly sticking by your side throughout.
"kinda want a dog" you begin thinking out loud, evaluating all your options. "but I don't want it to end up alone."
Joel's smile wavers slightly but he pushes forwards nonetheless. "I could look after it," despite his desperation to avoid acknowledging the very likely fact he'll eventually be living in a world without you, he knows he has to. if he's afraid then how could you not be? "yknow, after."
you push yourself closer to him, inhaling his scent and indicating for him to hold you tighter. The idea of your own death making you feel more fragile than ever.
"be like a mini me for when I'm gone." Joel nods in agreement, not trusting himself to give a verbal response. He places a kiss on your temple, earning a giggle as well as a return to a smile on both of your faces.
"what else?"
The creak of the swingset created a combination of annoyance and comfort.
it echoed your childhood in a sense, the hours spent swinging not too high back and forth and being far too scared of the slide.
you peered over at it - now having grown almost to the height of it, you didn't understand what you had been so afraid of.
The playground equipment was all rusted over, not even used by the kids who lived nearby. It wasn't the centre for making friends as it used to be. Regardless, it still held the memory of where you met Joel.
he hadn't been scared of the slide - he just couldn't get a turn. His rowdy brother hogged it relentlessly, Joel found his game funny initially but he grew tired of waiting for him to notice him waiting for a turn.
The girl on the swing next to you was swaying obnoxiously, yelling to her mum about how high she was swinging on her own. You didn't understand how she was doing it physically, as well as without fear.
"Can I push?" After standing beside the poles that dug the swingset into the ground, he mustered the courage to ask you a question. He felt kind of sorry for you, on your own in a park full of people.
he started off overly gentle, as if sensing your fear or being afraid to push you off it entirely.
it wasn't much but it helped you manage more than you could usually on your own. You also found yourself a little less scared.
you're on the same swing now - terrified, but for a different reason. Now you were scared of dying - not from swaying too high on a swingset or falling from the well known dramatic height of a slide, but from your own body giving up on itself.
what hadn't changed was that you always had known that there wasn't much life in you.
The position of the swingset allows you to see over the horizon, admiring the pinkish tints of the clouds as you await Joel's return.
you hear his scuffling behind you, his footsteps snapping the small branches laying across the floor. he stands in front of you handing you a small pot of ice cream, a wide grin on his face as he giggles to himself. you smile in response, his laughter infectious as he sets himself on the swingset to your left.
"Why are you laughing?" you can't help but continue giggling to mirror him, his optimism always seemingly amplified around you.
his giggles heighten in response, "I don't know, I'm just excited"
"for the ice cream?"
he giggles and nods in response. you chuckle and shake your head, licking the ice cream off your spoon. the laughter settles down, silently enjoying each other's company as you watch the sunset and savour your ice cream.
you've always been somewhat jealous of Joel.
Despite his battles that somehow don't settle for him to breathe and his unsurety in himself that have debilitated him a lot in life, he's always managed to make the most of himself. He's not entirely confident, but he manages. His life gets stressful, but he manages. It's an attribute you somewhat wish you had.
Sometimes you wanna be better. you want to be happy and actually live for once but a life like that is so inconsistent. No one can ever be constantly joyful and living the life they want.
You want something secure and death is the most assured thing there is.
Joel notices the drop of your emotions much lower than before, nudging your knee with his. you look up to his comforting smile and sympathetic worn eyes. trust you to find a way to bring down the mood already.
"you okay?" Joel's first to break the silence, taking the final mouthful of ice cream and setting the tub down by the side of the swingset.
you mumble a 'yeah', obviously not filling Joel with confidence that it's a genuine response.
"What u thinkin'?" he persists.
you hesitate before bringing it up. you wanted to avoid it but it's gonna come up eventually.
"I um, I had a call."
"Yeah? with who?" Joel's eyes are fixed in your direction despite your body's refusal to hold eye contact.
"the hospital."
Short answers are less anxiety inducing. but they definitely also prolong the length of torture. Joel stays silent, giving you the space to speak at your own pace.
"about treatments. well a-and appointment to talk about them." you finally look back up to Joel, unsure of whether to continue.
"When's that? I'll come with you."
"um. yesterday" you voice falters towards the end, becoming a mumble in lack of confidence.
Joel's eyebrows scrunch in vague confusion. "I didn't go." you confirm his suspicions.
you were thoroughly aware that the consequences of mentioning the appointment to Joel would result in you actually going. hence the fact you didn't.
Joel's head is swarming with conflicting emotions. He doesn't want to push you into something but he also has an obvious overwhelming desperation to keep you around. and a way to do that is with treatment.
"you don't want treatment?" Joel finally responds.
you can only shake your head. you finally stop moving around the remainder of your ice cream and set the pot down, gaining grip on the chain attached to your swing. you plant your feet more firmly on the ground, allowing you to look directly away from Joel and his pity.
"I'm tired of being sick, Joel. Treatment might not even work. 'm not sure if it's worth it." you're not sure if you're worth it.
"but it also might work." Joel tried desperately to maintain his outward calm. "you could try it."
"I don't wanna try it, Joel, I don't even want it to work."
Though he isn't the one dying, Joel felt his life drain further from his body. Every fiber of him wanted to convince you that you were wrong. He almost wanted to confess all his feelings in the hope it would give you the motivation to try - to live for him.
"I don't wanna go through all that, just be depressed still by the end of it. I don't wanna keep being someone for everyone to worry about. I don't want people to think I wanted to try living because then it's as if I never suffered at all." the words spill out before you evaluate the weight of them. you're not trying to dump it onto Joel you just need him to understand. "I'm not trying to make you pity me, Joel I just-"
"I don't get to pity you, don't you get that? none of us do."
his gaze on you feels much heavier, less focused on being cautious of every word out his mouth.
"we don't get to pity you because we all know you want this."
"what, you sit around with everyone talking about how I'm a suicidal fuck up?" you accuse, tone of voice almost repulsed.
"Of course not! we just know you're in pain! you always have been, mentally and now physically. I fuckin’ hate it but there's obviously positives in it for you and it's undeniable. treatment might keep you alive but you said yourself it doesn't change your mental state and I've researched and it won't even end your pain, you just won't die."
he pauses, tears building at the brim of his eyes.
"I'm with you all the time. I see you panic attack after panic attack, nightmare after nightmare, watch you deal with the episodes of so much pain over and over, night after night. It's not fair on you to have to live like that. In fact I feel selfish because I want you alive despite that. I'd be there for you with that same pain cycle for the rest of my life if it meant you were still around."
unknowingly, the tears fell from your own eyes, Joel blinks his own away as he removes his gaze on you.
You're at a loss for words. You'd neglected properly observing how other people were dealing with the situation - enough to have missed that others could see your death the way you see it. It was only a matter of time before yours and Joel's dynamic switched. You pitied him, it was an obviously complicated situation with no right response or perspective.
you reach your hand over to Joel’s, he looks at your expression and makes a mental note of the pity in your eyes. He secures the grip of his hand in yours, fingers entwined with one another's. Your hands hung in between the two swings.
"Don't mean you can pity me now" Joel forces a small smile, trying to lighten up the mood. He hadn't intended to let it all slip but he didn't entirely regret it either.
"'m sorry" you whisper and offer the same small smile back at him.
he chuckles a bit, "'s alright. Why couldn't you be annoyin’? then i wouldnt care this much." he leans his head against the chain of the swing closest to your own.
"I'm not?" you giggle.
"course not. you're you."
It's all cycles.
Living, not wanting to live, dying. Breathing, choking, suffocating. Waiting. There's a lot of waiting.
“You need to eat.”
When you grow up living in a body people torment you for, you learn to torment yourself. You crave a sickness so there's an excuse for the abomination you're supposed to live with.
You crave hunger. Being eaten from the inside out. The ability to know you're starving and empty - heart, stomach and soul.
He held out a fork of food, hovering just in front of your lips.
Is this poetic? This is how you had to live to finally be a fraction of some kind of fucked up beauty?
Joel caressed your cheek, softening your guard enough to be able to finally feed you. He immediately started working to gather the next bite.
Would the cure be noise or quiet? One makes you feel out of control and the other makes you feel alone. It's an empty question, really.
“C’mon. Next bite.”
Maybe you carry too many thoughts around with you. The mind is where you're trapped and it doesn't exactly make it a nice place to be.
He kissed your forehead. He does it a lot. Sometimes you wish he could live forever in your mind, giving kisses, maintaining life the way he’d been able to so far. Maybe that would be cure enough.
There's a strange kind of relief in being hopeless.
“You need painkillers?” he whispered into your skin.
The feel of it would typically be irritable, but it came with a warmth your body refused to provide for you.
You shook your head, ignoring the whirring it sent to your head.
“That's okay. Tell me if you do.”
You nodded, eyes forced shut from the way the room spun.
Joel was a lifeline - you climbed your way over to him to lay against his chest, watching him push the plate out of the way. His heart was beating, softly, functional. A twinge of jealousy formed in your heart, quickly combatted with the knowledge that if anyone in the world deserved a heart as functional as he was loving, it was Joel.
“Joel?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“How are you, like, perfect?”
He turned away to laugh a little, feeling like the epitome of repetitional mistakes. “I wouldn't say perfect, not at all.”
It was hard to pull your eyes away. You felt dead. You practically were. Joel had so much soul you could pretty much see it in his eyes. And his smile. It's hard to forget his smile.
“You are. You always know what to do and you always do it. How do you not mess up?”
“I mess up all the time. You're my idea of perfect.”
“Me?”
“Yep.”
“Joel, look at me for two seconds. Nothing about me is even good.” Your tone was slightly angry, but if this was a compliment out of pity then you didn't want it.
“Youre missing my point.”
“What's your point, Mr Delusional?”
He scoffed, staring down into your eyes. It felt heavier. “Thought you didn't want me to talk about this stuff.”
“What stuff?”
He leaned down, placing his head in the crook of your neck. “Do you just want me to compliment you? That what you want?”
“What- no. i dont-”
“Because I will.” He gently kissed your neck once but drawn out slow.
“That’s not-”
“You know how I feel.” he looked up, face intimately close as he held eye contact.
“How do you still feel it? I'm dead, Joel.”
“You’re not your sickness-”
“But it affects everything! It always has!”
“That doesn't make you less!”
His breathing was heavy, guilt from raising his voice even if it had only been a fraction. He hadn't moved but he felt closer, sending pressure to your heart. You realised then you wanted him closer, reaching to grab his face and press your lips to his.
It was full of energy, more life than you were used to.
Joel broke it only for a second to take a deep breath, like this was his first experience of relief. He gripped your face, pulling you closer to deepen it.
You gasped into the kiss, overwhelmed from the feeling. Joel pressed kisses from the corner of your mouth down to your neck. Finally, he gave himself a moment to breathe - and process.
You clawed at his shirt, fiddling, desperate to avoid thinking.
Eyes met once again, he noticed the watery layer in yours, cradling your face and caressing with his thumb.
“You okay?”
You nodded, tight lipped smile but silent. Somehow you had simultaneously always wanted to do that but also promised yourself you never would.
“Do you regret it?” Joel's voice was softer, shy. Afraid of the answer and unsure of the question.
“A little.”
“That's okay. I'm sorry.”
“Dont be. I liked it, i just - i dont know.” He didn't push. He gently held you as he always did. “I thought it would be easier if we just left it. Then nothing's unfinished. I hoped it would hurt you less.”
“Just me?”
You blinked up at him, not really sure of his point.
“I think you thought it would hurt you less. And I mean since we were younger too. You've never let anyone get too close.”
“Because what if people don't actually like me? Get so close they actually know stuff about me just to realise they don't like it - realise they don't want me.”
“Then they don't deserve you.”
“Its even worse with you! If you don't like who I actually am then I truly am something awful. I couldn't live with myself and I barely can anyways.” you looked away from him, growing nervous when you became aware of your rambling.
“I like who you are. I love who you are.”
“I’m nothing.”
“Not to me.”
You finally met back with his gaze, deciding to groan and slowly faceplant into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him. “Stop trying to make me kiss you again.”
“If thats what you really want.” he giggled, you felt his chest’s movements as you pressed into him. You realised you were thinking all sorts of corny phrases, like how you wanted to listen to him laugh all the time. Especially if it meant he was happy with you.
“I do wanna.” you mumbled.
“mm?”
“I do wanna do it again.”
“Yeah?”
“Dont make me regret it.”
“I won't. promise.”
How do you want to be remembered?
Truthfully? - with every imperfection too?
I don't think many people want to be remembered for their flaws. Sometimes I think I do, in a way.
When I die, as everyone will, I want people to know that I suffered. I think sometimes people do or choose to forget that I did.
When you spend your whole lifetime - however long or short, with a voice at the back of your mind telling you to stab yourself a million times over, you realise what would get you to plunge the knife into yourself one more time is the idea people would lie for your sake and call you the light of their life. Call you happy.
I don't want people to diminish my misery because it's more comforting to believe there were times when I was happy. The type of happy I've been has never been pure. Tainted in a way I could never clean. I tried to. Then I didn't want to try anymore. Then I wanted to just want to try. But I didn't. I don't.
If I die and the thing that lives on is times that I was pretending for everyone else’s sake, I'd just wish I'd yelled more.
I think I just need to die and be remembered as having suffered - enduring until I couldn't. I don't want people to invalidate how much I hid from them. There's so much people don't know. When I die, they won't ever know.
Maybe a part of you knew that day. It felt different.
You clung onto Joel more than normal, needing him for both balance and emotional stability. His eyes lingered on you as per usual, but a little more intense. Maybe a part of him knew too.
You couldn't get over the idea that all of this had been inevitable.
Joel’s chest gave off warmth that you envied. You dragged your fingertips across his chest, watching the way it rose with his breaths. You wondered when your own would stop.
“Hey,” he interrupted your spiralling, reaching to caress your face as gently as always.
You didn't have enough strength in you to answer, feeling as if parting your lips would allow your soul to escape you. Eyes blinking and sparkling up at Joel, you hoped he understood. Which he did.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise it's okay.”
He didn't pull his head back for another moment, muttering soft words into your skin. You wished you could tattoo the feeling, live with his closeness permanently - but nothing really is permanent.
You heard him sniffle, deciding to use your ounce of strength to hold his face. Maybe he needed it more than you did. After all, you just had to let go. You finally got to leave everything, and you were holding the one thing, the one person that was holding you there, stabilizing you.
Joel tried to blink away his tears, face frowning, sobs chasing to escape him.
“I-i’m sorry I don't- I didn't wanna be like-like this i-”
You pressed your forehead to his, eyelids fluttering and trying to close out of exhaustion. No part of you was okay with leaving Joel like this though, you wanted to do one thing right in your life.
“I- i just dont want you to go, i want you to stay.” His eyes squeezed, tears running down his face. “I wish it was okay - I do, but it's not. It's not, it's not, I need you.”
The effort to keep your eyes open had made them water - either that or you were displaying emotions that your mind couldn't signify to you anymore.
You didn't really feel anything. You ached. Like you needed to click every bone in your body.
With your body reluctant, Joel had to hold you up, cradling your face and placing hurried kisses as the water spilled down your face.
Sometimes you worried about how nice it felt - actions like that relaxed you a little too much, like you’d fall off the cliff of life if you soaked into the feeling for a second too long.
He choked down his sobs, laying down and placing you against him. His cheek pressed against your head. You felt safely enclosed, like something treasured yet secret in a small box.
You let your hand fall against Joel's chest, feeling his heartbeat. Therapeutic.
Should you feel guilty for feeling okay? Body for once swimming with a level of peace you'd never experienced while the love of your life suffered in front of you. Would pain be worse?
“Joel?” you spoke up delicately, eyes threatening to close again.
He sniffled, hands shaking as he shifted so he could meet your eyes. “Y-yeah?”
You breathed deeply, pushing out energy without trying to. “It doesn't hurt.”
Joel’s face tensed, you knew he was trying not to cry. A touch of your hand to his cheek helped him to let go. He placed his hand over yours, letting his emotions start to escape. You wanted him to feel just a little like how you did. You wanted him to feel peaceful.
“That's-that's good, im-im glad you’re not hurtin’,” he inhaled sharply, another sob escaping him quickly after.
“It doesn't hurt ‘nymore.” you reassured him, quiet, slow.
With every flutter of your eyelids, Joel felt his heart stop. Over and over. He knew what was coming and anxieties tormented every second waiting for it.
“You’ll, you’ll be okay.” you promised as you relaxed your face, Joel cried out once again as he placed his forehead against yours. There was limited warmth you gave off and yet he chased it still.
“But i-i need you.”
“You have me,” he tried to settle his breathing, “Always. promise.” You made your oath.
He gently kissed your lips. He wanted to give his life to you, and in a way, this was the only version of that he could do.
“I love you,” Joel sobbed out. “So so much.”
“Love you.”
I had to learn how to feel alive.
I grew up abandoned but I felt hollow enough that I thought I wasn’t enough to even be considered ‘abandoned’. I wasn't worth anything.
It wasn't until I learned the way I was supposed to grow up that I mourned the life I should've had.
Death is harder when it shouldn't have happened. Life is harder when it doesn't feel like living. It's hard to compare life to death when you're always alone.
That was how I grew up, that is how I live and that is how I will die.
- hi hi :> this has loads of quote chunks taken from my diary lol so its very personal to me <3 lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist and pleaseee let me know what you thinkkkk !!
