I’m happier. I realize that. But there’s still this aching in my soul, knowing that I will never be understood. I’ll always be alone. Nobody has ever really wanted in on my life, and when someone finally did, they broke my heart, quite maliciously. And now, I’m smart enough to realize that if anyone ever claims to love me, it’s fake. They’re using me or wanting to hurt me or they lost a bet or something. I’ll never be really loved. I don’t deserve that at all. If you saw me, if you knew anything about me, you’d agree. And it just sucks. I don’t know why I was even created. I hate it, and I hate me.
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I feel you. I understand your feeling. Waking up every day thinking and wishing how you wish you were dead. Nothing matters anymore. You’d exchange your life for the ones on the hospital bed. Then maybe, just maybe they’d give a thought about you. Or, maybe not. Or maybe they’d just say “good riddance” or maybe they’d come and apologise to you or say how sorry they were. But honestly they don’t give a second shit about you. Just one less person of the earth, they’d be thinking. Which is probably true. I feel you. I really do..