No Choice but to Get Better

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I have found that the best times to write are either when


you are in love or heartbroken. Passion will flow into


your pen, explode, and the ink will spill every secret you


have ever held. You will either shatter from excitement


or being broken is a lonely thing. Simply put, it's


exhausting. There were days I could not handle. I could


not bring myself to tell my notebook how much I hated


you and how my only goal was to maybe make you


happy one day. I tried so hard to be perfect for you made


me feel so lonely. The "I-know-more-than-you-"s and


the talking down to me were knives you stuck in my


chest and twisted around. You didn't notice my silence


when you killed me. When I stopped eating. When I


stopped sleeping. When I stopped speaking.You didn't


hear me at night as I prayed by my bedside waiting for


someone to answer the phone. That's what you would


say to me after I hung up on you. Like I had no reason to


ignore your calls. Like I was not a house with shattered


windows and broken air conditioning. Like I was not a


kitchen full of pots and pans but no ingredients to cook


with. But it is my cooking you swore you could not live


without you, I have become stronger. I have found that


when you are broken, and it feels like you cannot get any


worse, it only means you can get better. I have no choice


but to get better.

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