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I guess I”m sad.
I am a liar. It’s true. I’m a liar. But why do I have to be one thing. Lie I”m a bad person, a liar, a betrayer, I am trash. Can’t I be simultaneously caring trash? Can’t I be trash that cares most of the time but sometimes I do some shitty shit cause I”m scare dand hurting and feel perpetually alone in my thoughts and that I”m drowning and I wish someone would save me but they can’t no one cant but myself?
I just want an answer.
Lieke him. He is my answer sometimes. He calms me and makes me laugh. He makes me think. But will he be THE answer, THE truth? No probably not. Will he be enough? TBH, probably not.
I used to write in long prose, with plenty of space between each line, indicating a breath taken before we deleve into purposeful discussion. Little did anyone know
I
was
stalling
in
that
space.