I should have noticed it--but it was happening too quickly, all at once.

But through these four years, through these four years of hoping. Of wanting. Of wishing. Of changing. Of hating myself. Of disappointment. Of trying. Of hoping.

Of hoping.

Truth is, is that I don't know how to explain it myself. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to, all I feel is nothing. I'm empty.

I will tell you I am fine.

But I've got some news, friend. It feels like I'm dying.





I don't think I believe in love anymore.