I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine and as it should be
and it’s not your fault. It really isn’t. It’s not your fault that I don’t know how to end things like a proper adult. I’m actually quite sorry
so sorry that I’m crazy and I hang onto whoever the person is that is least interested in me.
I will learn or do better or both someday.
You can’t imagine how horrible it feels to watch yourself hurt yourself over and over and truly be incapable of stopping by yourself.
Just stop responding to me. Help me.
Just block me. Help me.

I’m not going to feel any differently until I get hit by a train.

It’s not your fault but what a waste of a life.
I could love the man next to me but what for?
Everything is fine but everything is just a substitute.
I wish that I had never ever met you.
Wish it too. Help me.
Still, it’s not your fault.
Maybe a little of you was enough.
Maybe I’m thinking permanence is a real thing when I know its not and I know that there is no such thing for human beings…
Maybe if I am not in pain, I don’t feel anything at all.
Maybe I’m not even human anymore.
And it’s cool, its fine, really.
You’re not the unique diamond buttermilk snowflake Prince that I think that you are anyway.
You’re just some good looking kid that I harass for literally no goddamned reason.
Stop me. Help me.
It’s pretty pathetic. If you told me that you loved me right now the goddess of fortune would stop my heart from beating so I could die, finally, happy for once.
It’s fine.
Don’t do it though.
Especially since I ruin everything.
I’m ruining right now thinking about what you must be thinking about me when I know you ain’t thinking about me at all and it hurts. It’s not your fault though.
And he’s cool.
And I’m throwing another temper tantrum self sabotaging pity party in your honor.
Hate me. Help me, please.
Stop going on my petty little power trips with me from now on, okay?
I’m fine. It’s all fine, just fine.
Everything’s fine and as it should be.