The end.
I just want to be loved…and I’m not anymore, and it hurts so very much. I’ve never been one to self harm and I won’t ever be one to do so, but that’s how bad it hurts - that maybe…just maybe if I make a cut, the pain will go away. That’s how my heart feels, that’s how my soul feels, it’ll never get better - I have nothing left in me, I’m drained. In the end, I was a bitch and annoying and in the end, I was nagging and just wouldn’t shut up but by the same token, in the end, everything that I ever complained about, whined about, cried about, got upset about was something that meant something to me and that something was our relationship, that something was him…in the end, it was too much and not enough at the same time.
This is the end. This is the end of me basing all my goals off someone else, and giving all my energy to something that doesn’t give the same back. This is the end of not taking care of myself, when I’m the only one that matters because I have to live with me the rest of my life. This is the end of everything that I had dreamed about for the past nine months, and all the things I looked forward too - this is the end of something that I thought would last forever and was meant to be forever. In the end, I was wrong and it won’t be the last time.
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