Taken from my notebook, the outlet I need to keep myself from falling apart.
Hoping brings me nothing but pain.
I feel extremely gullible and utterly retarded for believing in your words, in the feelings associated with you, as if I didn't have an index of past pains to compare to. And I constantly saw signs that I pretended were things I could work on, I made excuses for you, and the whole time I was only fueling my own depression. This whole inevitable end.
They say everything is relative, so how do you change your views on life so as not to be constantly at war with your own inner self? I can come up with the arguments, repeat them as if they were some sort of personal mantra, but I can't find a way to actually believe in them.
I hate everything a little more every day, and I'm afraid I was masking that with what happiness you did provide me - using him as some sort of barrier between myself and the outside world. There are better ways to do that, ways to actually learn to love yourself, but I'm terrified of putting in the effort only to realize that I'm incapable of mastering them.
I just want to vomit, and I can't tell if it's because I'm upset with you or disgusted with myself.