I am overwhelmed.

I don’t really miss you, but I miss the way you made me feel. And I miss thinking about you and smiling and I miss the glitter you filled my heart with and I miss the light you filled my head with.

I don’t want to hear your voice but I miss losing sleep talking to you because it was just so much better than sleeping.

I don’t miss the way you didn’t really love me and I don’t miss the way you didn’t like that I didn’t give you want you wanted. I don’t miss feeling alone when I slept next to you, and I don’t miss feeling like we would never be able to get it right. I don’t miss feeling like I wasn’t good enough when I deserved better.

These walls are cold and unfamiliar. My things are in piles on the floor and on some shelves and I feel like this is not my place.

He fills up the space when he lies in my bed but when his presence leaves, it does not linger like I wish it would.

I don’t know if he makes me happy and I don’t know if he makes me sad or angry or alone. I don’t know what he makes me feel but for now I’m okay with that so I’ll spend some of my time missing him when he’s gone.

I used to have lists of things I wanted, of things I wanted to do, of people I wanted to talk to. Now there is no list and I feel like I have no one to talk to. I think he pretends not to hear when I try to bring up things on my chest, so I try not to talk about them to him, either. Once again I feel so alone and I feel like a heavy burden for wanting to lie it upon someone else’s shoulders.

I’m not doing okay, I’m not doing okay. But I don’t know how bad I am and I don’t know if it’s going to get any worse. I don’t know what to do and I feel so so so lost. I feel so cold. But I feel like I don’t know what I’m feeling and I feel so empty, too.

I’ve been thinking about the ‘c’ word again. It’s been lingering in the back of my mind and when I go to the doctors for a check up in a few months, God, I hope I’ll have it.

And I feel disgusting and worthless and so so so ugly.

And he doesn’t call me beautiful. He doesn’t call me pretty. He doesn’t tell me anything that would give my heart a jump start and, he doesn’t tell me much of anything at all. He just talks to me about cars.


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