one.

I sit sad. I sit angry. I sit confused. I sit sick. I sit tired. I sit wondering. I have so many questions. Why has he done this? I respect his decision. I just need an explanation. Why is this his decision? Why does he not answer? Why is he reading but not understand? What are we? Does he not know how i feel? Does he even fucking care about me? Who really is he? Why am I crying? Whats happening to me? I have a tendency to ask questions that I cannot retrieve answers to. He is killing me slowly. Time does not heal nor make you forget. It simply makes the pain grow. All that fairytale stuff is bullshit. My life will not magically turn around by a fairy godmother. I want to stop crying. I want to stop being depressed. I do not want to think of him. But how can I do that when he's the first thing I think of? I want to forget. I want to go back to the good days when everything was okay and I could just lay my head on his shoulder and we'd lay there. Now this is like one of those anti-romance movies. What's wrong with me? I'm pathetic. I'm gullible. I'm a bad friend. I'm stupid. I'm me. I'm horrible ol' me. Who knew one person could have so much self hate? Who knew one person could have so many tears? Who knew one person could damage me so much? I ask the same question again. What's wrong with me? Everything will probably be okay at one point. I am always paranoid. Another one of my fatal flaws. But if I am not paranoid, I am heartless. I am me. I'm stupid old me. I want to hurt me. Nothing's stopping me. I could drop dead right now, oh well. I might have just lost the most important person in my life. And a part of my heart. It's my fault. It's always my fault. I cannot stop thinking about him. I cannot stop replaying our memories. Like that one time he kissed me on the cheek and called me cute. That one time he stood up for me when another guy was hitting on me. That one time when he was completely honest with me. That one time we kicked each other at the same time and started laughing. What did I do? What did I fuck up this time? It's 3:30 am and I sit here wondering where it went wrong. Maybe I'll be dead by next week. Maybe everything'll be right by next week. I hope everything is okay. And by okay I mean you, me, him, our relationship, our friendship, my mental state, my physical state. But then again, only time can tell. Only time can kill.