an overflow of words

It feels like I've lost myself during these past few months. It feels like I've lost all of me. I feel empty. I feel vast. I feel desolate. I feel lifeless. And most of all, and most importantly, I feel nothing; nothing at all. I laugh, but I don't feel the amazing sensation laughter brings together with it. I cry, but I don't feel the heart-wrecking pain crying brings together with it. I smile, and my cheek muscles feel funny. Like I'm not supposed to be smiling.

I wish that I've never, ever met you. Then maybe, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't ever have cared so much. And if I never cared, maybe I wouldn't have cried myself to sleep every night, because I wouldn't be thinking of you. Maybe I wouldn't feel as alone as I do now, if I never met you, loved you, and watched how quickly you managed to walk out of my life.

You know what's the deadliest love of all? Unrequited love. Every day, I keep on hoping tomorrow will be better than today. And when it isn't, I just keep on going on. Why? Because I can't kill myself. That would be suicide, and I refuse to die under my own hands. But this crushing disappointment day after day is enough to cripple me, if crushing disappointment was physical, not emotional.

But, as I constantly remind myself, only a person who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss. It is necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live. And the best thing you can do, when you're stuck in a tedium like this, the best you can do is wait and hope. Hope for the best. Hope that you'll be okay soon. Hope that you will return to being you.

So that's what I'm doing. Hoping. And sometimes, even hoping is not good enough. How am I supposed to ever be okay again?

I can't remember the last time I went through a day without breaking down and crying.

Pain is when you can't breathe, even if your chest still rises and falls. Sadness is when you look out the window and see ghosts of you and him. Loneliness is when you still feel a hand touching yours, even if there's none. Desperation is when you wait for someone that will never come. And love is when you experience all these things, and still open your heart for someone who will never get there.