-I'll end up alone, I'll die alone. I won't get loved to the same extent by the people I love. They will all gradually get tired and leave and I'll spend my entire life sitting in the middle of crimson release, shaking uncontrollably with anxiety, craving for nice sincere words, honest affectionate gestures. With no one to remember me. I'll never learn how to handle myself, how to be enough for myself when k couldn't even be that for the ones who bore me.
I'll die hating every inch of my body, always taking people's bullshit like a mute monkey. I'll die alone, with no one on my bed side, craving for littlest acts of love.-
-I hate loving too much. I hate making them first priority. I hate being the one who loves too much cares too much wants too much. I hate being the desperate one.
No matter what anyfuckingone says, someone is always chosen over me. Always. So there's no point.
I hate getting attached, I hate sharing, I hate caring. I hate not being the same. Ever. I hate being my own worst enemy. I hate that life doesn't get me and neither do I get it and I hate that even death doesn't want me.
I hate living, I hate lying, I hate dying. Everyday.
But most of all I'd say I hate being where I am and who I am.-
