it used to be harder like a lot harder,
to come to terms with what happened at the time it all just felt unreal and impossible even i thought i imagined it all
Atleast it would be easier if it all you know, was just a bad dream?
like i would rather be hated by everyone around me including my closest friend than to have admit to myself that it was real.
although it sucks being hated by everyone who used to ride or die for you it’s a lot better than accepting you weren’t the villain and in fact you were the victim and therefore you are now broken.
thats how we carry on pretend the bad things are just made up and isn’t true.
the thing is it is true, it’s very true when you wake up the next day with marks and bruises and have no recollection of getting them.
just bits and pieces….
and you just try to tell yourself with those bits and pieces, it was right it’s what you wanted.
but deep deep down, you know it wasn’t
because if it was you would want to be able to remember all of it and you would’ve done it before.
but you didn’t
it was taken from you
The best way to get to know a person is not by what they say about themselves, but what they say about the world, people and everything else. So if you want to get to know me there is no better way than just simply reading my work. It’s the window to my soul.