Sometimes I wonder if you are thinking about what happened like I do.
Sometimes I wonder how you are doing.
Sometimes I wonder if you're ok.
You have to be ok.
Because I'm not there anymore.
And you're the one that left.
You left on your own free will.
So you have to be ok.
But the problem is.
I only think you're ok.
I want to think you're ok.
Because I need you to be ok.
Even if you're ok because I'm gone.
I need you to be ok.
But I don't know if you're ok.
I can only presume you're ok.
But I'm not allowed to ask if you're ok.
And the most hypocrytical part about it is.
It hurts, because you are ok without me there.
.
.
.
August 4th was the day I ruined everything.