Why do we continually put ourselves through torture only to catch a glimpse of what we can't have. I dunno, maybe it's just me. Yeah, yeah the grass is greener on the WHATEVER. It still doesn't change the fact. Fact. Stagnant. Constant. Unchanging. Shit.
"She says December, will help me remember."
WHYYYY why does life have to suck. Was the big wheel of fortune broken? Or just unlucky? Did it by chance land on SUCK instead of AWESOME and that was it? Maybe we have to change it ourselves. Whatever that means.
It's slipping through my fingers, like glitter in those of a toddler, no knowledge of the disappointment that will surely ensue. It's not fair, goddammit.
The melody hits me like a wall of sound, smashing into my brain into shards of hurt at the repeated realization that I can't have it. Over and over and over again like a mother yelling at her child. No, suffer.
Strangely enough, it's my drug. I know it's the closest I'll come to a taste - no, just the memory of happiness. I'm a hurt junkie. Crap.
And now I may never see her again.
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