don't tear down our pictures
i sat there in my terminal and i wondered if all the staring people could tell i was on the verge of tears every twenty two seconds. if they picked up on something broken about me... or if they even cared, cause he doesn't. i didn't sleep on the plane. i would doze off for ten minutes and wake up to an uncomfortable position - because i always adopt one. and everytime i was awoken i was surprised to see that i wasn't dreaming. that i was really in a plane over the ocean on my way home and away from him because for some still unknown reason, i just can't deal with what he's been throwing down. even though i don't exactly know what it even is.
i know that i hate sleeping alone.
and i hate waking up alone...
but i've been feeling like a fool. and something tells me that's not fair. how do you even begin to distract yourself from feeling like half of you is just... missing? how are you supposed to just shut up and endure it when you don't even know when it's
going to be over?
i am just. completely crushed and taken away by this whole thing.
i just want this to be over. so badly. can we just go back to the beginning?
i know that i hate sleeping alone.
and i hate waking up alone...
but i've been feeling like a fool. and something tells me that's not fair. how do you even begin to distract yourself from feeling like half of you is just... missing? how are you supposed to just shut up and endure it when you don't even know when it's
going to be over?
i am just. completely crushed and taken away by this whole thing.
i just want this to be over. so badly. can we just go back to the beginning?