Broken
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I stopped talking with myself a few months ago. I seek out things to do to kill time, to kill thoughts. To live with myself. To go on.
You think that everything will be ok and that you’ll never love anyone else again, because you’re happy. Or you should be happy. And then, suddenly you’re in love again, with all the passionate thoughts I can’t really describe, but my stomach flips when I think about it. And you find yourself loving one person and being in love with another…
Don’t ask me how it’s possible.
