Being in a relationship ends in one of two ways; breaking up or death. When you think about it like that, love really is doomed from the beginning yet we continue to nearly kill ourselves anyway just to taste it.
I need something to be good. I need something to feel right. I’m not depressed. My heart is not broken. I’m not grieving; she’s not dead. She’s out there. She’s living out her dreams, and I know she’s happy and that makes me feel proud for her. But there is this other feeling that doesn’t completely feel fair, or right, or good. She goes on, day in and day out happy without me. Every morning I wake up and there’s this pit; this feeling here that maybe my dreams are over.