Chistmas is a drag, and I have "love" to blame.
Today is christmas, the 25th, the day. This afternoon, I cried rivers and oceans. All because of an insensitive prick. I give up. I'm tired of covering up. This christmas is far from being merry. I'm giving up on having a "good" christmas, and I'm giving up on my hopes of reviving a relationship that's long dead. It's seemingly beyond repair.
I'm so fucking tired of hoping, of expecting, of praying (yes, praying), of waiting. I'm sick. Gawd. I'm of being sick.
I gave up too much. I believed too much. Now, I'm left alone. All because of somebody out there who probably doesn't even think of me.
It's so fucking hard living your life while your mind is constantly haunted by your past and your heart seems to be pierced thru by a double-edged sword everytime you're reminded of everything. God, listen to me. Who would've known I'd be this way. I mean, I intended to be single my whole life. AND THEN, someone came along... and left.
Great. Fucking great.
