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2014-10-11 10:18:30 (UTC)

I don't wanna fade away.

Writing allows me to vent, it allows me to feel better about my life and realise that things are what they are.

I once again haven't wrote in a long time due to working every day and having so little free time, literally 3 hours free time a day.

I really want to write more often, but I start to ask myself why bother, you know? I read through some of the stuff I've wrote here and its so depressing.

The sad thing is, what I've wrote here is my life, it's me.

I wrote this big post out about some stuff that's happened lately, then the thought hit me that there's no point even posting that shit, because lets face it - 99% of stuff that I've wrote here is basically me wearing my heart on my sleeve.

So I figured I'd follow that trend right? Why would I break that trend now?

I've been thinking lately, kinda asking myself why I feel the way I do, after everything that's happened, why would I feel this way?

I ask myself something, like; 'would you take SB back if she asked you?' and I honestly think to myself for awhile before saying to myself, 'yes, of course I would'.

This is when my head begins to flood with thoughts and memories and I soon find myself saying 'no, wtf, fuck no, fuck her'.

I go on this long forward and backwards thought process and end up feeling like shit because of what you did to me.

I'm forever trapped in this frame of mind where I don't know the answers, so I'm literally two people trying to work out what I want. I just can't do it. On one side I know I'd take you back, I know that I still have feelings for you and I know that I miss you more than anything.

The other side hates you for being in my life for like 4 years and then just, leaving. Never getting in touch, not wanting to keep me as a friend, just removed from your life.

The thought that before you stopped talking to me, before you removed me from your life we were talking about getting back together. I understand your fucked up in the head, I know you have problems. Fuck, I know you better than I know myself, SB. Yet I don't understand how you did what you did.

Every day I walk to work, it takes me 90 minutes and every day, I do this. Every single day you come into my head and I think about this. I still don't know the answer. It's been something like 6 months since we stopped talking. It'll be almost 2 years since we broke up in November. Just thinking about that actually hurts. It makes me want to cut, it makes me want to cry. The thought of not being with you for 2 years fucking hurts.

I bet in that time you've fucked so many people, that you're happy in your new life without me and that you don't even think about me. I think about getting in touch with you most days after this head fuck of emotions.

Maybe I want to because I need to know answers, or maybe it's because once again I miss you. I really don't know.

I just wish you'd get in touch with me, that you'd speak to me and try and be my friend, at least.

I really don't know what to do, without you I still feel lost. I throw myself at my job because I'm so unhappy after spending literally 2 minutes alone at home. Yet all I do is complain about working so many hours.

I remember that before we stopped talking, you said we had nothing to talk about, you said that you thought I was cocky and full of myself.

I'm so sorry if at that stage of my life, I just got the perfect job and was actually happy with my line of work after 7 years of being miserable at my last job.

I can't believe it's going to be 2 years soon. It almost feels wrong, you know? Like, I've made an error In the time we've been away. Unfortunately I'm not wrong, it really will be 2 years soon. Although it'll be 6 months since you told me to stay the fuck away from you.

I'm not entirely sure how much longer I can go on feeling like this. Feeling this way and missing people so much.

I go through these stages which scare the shit out of me, I don't know why but for some reason I'll start thinking about death all the time. It scares me so much thinking that I'm 27 now, which is effectively 33% of my life.

I think about how soon I'll be dead. I know, soon, right? The last 27 years of my life have gone by so fucking fast, but I guess when you look back at your life it always feels like it's just flown by.

I guess I know one day, I won't be able to think, I won't be able to feel, I just won't. I end up keeping myself awake for hours, scared and so alone. I don't want that to happen, yet it has to happen.

I'm so fucking alone.

Story of my life.