oh good, it's break.

the title is supposed to be sarcasm - it's one of my many talents. deadpan cynical humor makes life a little more bearable, i'd like to think.

when i'm back here, i think of how i felt that you were what it meant to be home. that when i return its like i never left but at the same time it is all so foreign and mysterious to me. i forget my roads sometimes, the faces seem so vague, but you helped ground me. probably in a really bad way.

right now i dont feel anything anymore. i'm so tired. of you. of me. of me thinking of you. i have dreams about you every night and all i can think about is why i can't let go of you. am i not enough? good enough? ur the only one who can make me feel perfect just the way i am, an escape from any pressure there is, and someone i completely trusted because i thought i was special to you. that i knew more about you than others, that i could be just as much as a friend as you were to me. you became what i consoled in, my comfort, my hope that maybe all this gushy shit existed.

i dont know what youre thinking. or feeling. if what you are doing is all just a lie and a front. but maybe what was considered us was all a lie and a front too. that all i was was a girl you could just go to so you would feel less shitty about being alone. that i was just someone you could take advantage of. that the day you said you loved me, u just needed some sort of vice to make you feel better.

i want to regret, then forget, then move on like it never happened. i wish it never happened. this sick twisted us lasted over year and all of a sudden its like all i know how to do now is keep the past alive.