I feel the genuine, unadulterated tears meander down the side of my cheek, and realise my happiness streak has ceased to exist. I wish, hope, crave, will it to return- but promises like those don't exist. You have to fight the fear and pain again.

I though it was going to be OK this time, I really really did. It's all the hope that hurts the most. Next time, I won't make the same mistake again. I won't hope the sadness is gone; I'll just wait for it to return.

In my head. ♥

"Everything around me is in fast forward and I'm just the only one at normal speed. Or maybe thats just my head, and I'm running in slow mo."

I hate the fact I have this feeling. Everything is a jigsaw that won't fucking fit together, no matter how much I try, no matter how much I obsess.

I hate that saying. No regrets. No fucking regrets. It's total bullshit. I regret so much. I regret my whole fucking life. I regret changing. I regret everything fucking thing I have ever done to get me here, where I am. I can safely say, I think I'm going to loose it. My sanity. Cause everytime I fuck up. It hurts so much and the pain never goes away. And I've just drawn a huge picture of myself thats slowly becoming a scribble, and I hate it. It doesn't look right. It just looks fucked. And I can't rub out. And there's no way of fixing it. It's just fucked and I can't fix it. I can't fix myself and that drives me insane.

Fucking hell. I'm not thinking straight. I need some tea.