Maybe it's just me.

Yet another breakdown. You'd think I'd be out of spares by now, you know?
Either that or used to pain. I have such a high tolerance. But its just not enough. We won't even talk anymore. He told me so last night. He used to be my best friend. I could tell him anything. Then love screwed that up. Then I screwed love up. We've been trying to go back to how we were. Friends. But there's just too much hurt, too many damaged emotions and nerve endings. For both of us. He said how this isn't goodbye forever. That someday we can pick it up again, whatever we've become. I don't even know.

What I do know is that it shouldn't be this difficult. I should have no trouble listening to the radio, or sleeping during storms. In the end, I'm not worth any of it. He forgets how he isn't the only one going through hell. He forgets how I am when I'm alone. What I'm capable of. Or maybe none of that even matters anymore. I wish I could wake up with a clean slate. Go to sleep for a hundred years and open my eyes with a fresh start. But then I'd have to deal with those nightmares.

I hate how I need to feel loved. I need someone to think I'm pretty. Anyone.
And isn't that just cowardly? I can't even be okay on my own. I try so hard to remind myself that in the end, I'm the only one I'll have. The end is what counts. Everyone leaves, you know? Everyone. But for some pathetic reason, I refuse to think rationally. I still expect some beautiful fairy tale moment where my true love dashes on stage to sweep me off my feet and save the day. I've already had my magic, though. I squandered it.

Sorry to be so depressing today, guys. But I want to warn someone. Anyone who has something they've dreamed of. Don't waste it. It's not birthday wishes that come every year. Perhaps we only get one wish that comes true per life time. Maybe there are no second chances.
or maybe thats just me.