𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗹𝗲 | ˢʰᵒʳᵗ⁻ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ✓

07

7.

I don't know how many days had passed since then, but during that time, strangely, I hadn't thought of you. My life was going as it always did, with momentary laughter and happiness, tears and sadness.

People came and went out of my life, but it didn't really matter to me. People learn to stop caring about others eventually, after them repeatedly using and hurting them. And that's what I did.

I stopped caring.

Stopped caring about people in my life, because none of them were ever meant to stay.

Stopped caring about my emotions, because all it would do is make me feel weak. I couldn't afford to be weak, especially when I had no one else with me.

I wasn't a total loner though; I had one person I could call a friend, even though we weren't really like friends. More like acquaintances, who were both outcasts, and would acknowledge each others' presence occasionally.

The day she too betrayed me wasn't fully unexpected; at the back of my mind, I always knew that it was temporary — she, like everyone else, would use me for her benefit, and when I wasn't useful to her anymore, she would would leave — but I had to admit that it hurt.

Life had been going smoothly, before she left, and I was lulled into having a false sense of security that maybe I had gotten a chance to get out of the loophole of continuous devastation, until life turned its back on me like it always did.

I was a fool for letting it get to me, and I beat myself up for it, but at that moment, I felt horrible; the most horrible I had ever felt in my life.

And that was saying something because I was always feeling miserable.

x x x