They’re back.
I turned them off for months and I think they’re back.
I think they’re back because I find myself unable to sleep, thinking about you.
I cry again. Real human tears.
And then I feel things, terrible human things.
When this happens I just want to turn it all off again. Make everything stop. Stop feeling. Stop hurting. Stop being, here.
I’m getting bad again.
And it’s not your fault.
It’s not your fault you’re an asshole and a liar. It’s not your fault I have a knack for picking the most terribly despicable people; i.e., you.
It’s my fault I’m a mess.
It’s not your fault I’m all dark and twisty.
The thing that is your fault is making me feel like I’m not enough all over again.
It is your fault that you took a girl who was proud of all the bad parts about herself and you made her feel like nothing more than ordinary.
And it is my fault for letting myself believe that anyone could make me as happy as I was beginning to make myself.
So, I’m bad again. And they’re back and I don’t mind if I’m bad again, I think maybe I’ll always be bad and dark and damaged but I’ll like that part of me. Again. Soon.
But they’re back. And you came and went and for anyone else that’s okay, that’s easy.
But, they’re back and for me, it’s unacceptable. They’re back and I refuse to feel pain and hurt and disgust caused by another person because I am better and stronger and happier when they’re gone and you’re gone.
It’s over.
So, over.

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