I guess this is going to be something that I will always struggle with. But why. Why why why did this even happen. How did this all start. How do I make it stop. I’m just going to go to bed and hopefully I’ll wake up and these feelings will be gone.
You said,
no.
And even now I find myself longing for the x’s.
And paper has become my savior.
And my flesh thanks me.
But at the same time, it hates me.
I just need to make for a year… again.