I’m trying to stay strong, but it’s hard when everything is tearing you down.
It’s hard for me to admit, but harder to ignore. When you kissed my scars my heart leaped, something I haven’t felt in years. Something I’ve been afraid of feeling for so long, something I’m still not sure I want to feel.
Depression is like this; no matter how physically close you are to someone- you’re still empty. When someone makes you happy- you leave, in fear that they will leave you. Every sound is dull and lifeless, because that’s what you have become. The shell of who you once were.
Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with a sadness that comes out of nowhere, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
If I killed myself, I wouldn’t want anyone to know about me for a long time. But there’s this small, selfish, part of me that wants my death to be more than a tumblr post. I feel like I have to prove something. But I’m nothing special.
