It hurts to love this badly. It physically hurts to love so intensely with so little. It’s annoying, yet great at the same time. It’s a constant feeling of lying on your bed, looking at the ceiling, sighing deeply. It’s a permanent state of transition. It’s expressing your feelings and getting nothing back. It’s becoming numb most of the time. It’s a constant feeling of being thrown to the garbage. It’s being classified with everybody else into categories in which you don’t think you belong, but everybody else thinks you do. It’s waiting years for someone with whom you actually feel connected. It’s waiting for someone who you actually like, and not only cling because of some stupid reason. It’s crying. It’s laughing. It’s feeling blocked. It’s looking at pictures, longing. It’s refusing to look at pictures, because you don’t want to feel that way anymore. It’s forgetting who someone is just so you don’t have to hurt anymore. It’s being confused and insecure, all the time. It’s knowing that most people have never felt this way, or at least don’t feel this way all the time. It’s being sad, and happy at the same time.
It’s eating me apart.