My life is spinning out of control. I can't stop it. I can't think straight. I can't do what I have to do if it continues like this. I know I don't deserve it. You are destroying me. I don't even know who I am anymore, I'm so confused and powerless. I still feel like your needs exceed my own but I don't know who to be or how to help you. You shut me out and it hurts so bad and then I can't be who you need me to be. I want to show you what you will lose if you don't stop this, but I'm not strong enough. I cant differentiate between positives and negatives anymore.
There is so much uncertainty... Im reading into every little things needing answers. Im losing my faith. I want you so much. I am becoming toxic too... I'm resenting the things that make you want to be aware from me, then hating myself for resenting something I love so much. I am out of control. Every time you leave you take a piece of me with you. Soon the person you love will be gone. The hurt will be too deep.
There will be no going back for us.... And There is no end in sight.... But I cannot go on like this... But why do I feel like either way I'm sacrificing my soul? To continue like this is not an option... To live my life without you, is also not an option....
My 'Blurt' Prologue...
My story is a long one. Though, now that my life is on track- it feels like just that.
A Story. Maybe someone else's story? I don't know..
Who would have thought this would begin from trying to learn how to touch type?
This is where the idea of typing about my life, my story, on a screen begins.
Surely, by the time I have finished pouring my heart out onto a blank canvas, putting it into
words for someone other than me to understand, I should be able to type 60 words per minute and
my soul will be lighter. My head will be clearer. I will be complete...
A Story. Maybe someone else's story? I don't know..
Who would have thought this would begin from trying to learn how to touch type?
This is where the idea of typing about my life, my story, on a screen begins.
Surely, by the time I have finished pouring my heart out onto a blank canvas, putting it into
words for someone other than me to understand, I should be able to type 60 words per minute and
my soul will be lighter. My head will be clearer. I will be complete...
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