tears turned to ink

february 10, 2020

&&&5:25 am

it feels like the part of the movie where everything goes all the way downhill right before the climax. like the compilation of short memories and fake smiles and sleepless nights and tears. the part of the movie where i walk into my house and shut the door behind me before sliding to the floor and burying my head in my hands. that kind of sad. the kind of sad that doesn't feel real and doesn't make me cry and doesn't matter. the kind of sad that i feel on lonely weekends and holidays. the kinda sad that i despise the most. i hate feeling like this so often. being so melancholy all the time shouldn't be possible. it is an easy thing to hide. nobody knows and if they do, they have no clue of the extent of my sadness and the utter shitshow that is my mental health. it's quite alright though, i don't need anyone's help, i can fill the void myself. no matter how badly i long for human affection and approval, i don't need anyone. the only thing another human can do for me is fulfill my craving to be tangled up with someone under my sheets or underneath them trying to catch my breath or in their arms with hickies on my body and absolutely no regrets. but i don't need it. i'm capable of doing this without any help. i don't need anything but myself and i will keep saying it no matter how big of a lie it is. i don't need love.