4:00 AM, listening to the soundtrack for Interstellar and writing depressing sci-fi.
I haven't really changed have I? I still stay up way later than I should, instead of writing depressing song lyrics I write depressing short stories and poems (Since I probably won't end up singing them) and I'm still addicted to listening to music while I do literally anything, and I'm still hurt by the very person I thought would never hurt me.
I can't remember if the first of the five stages of grief is denial, but I guess it was to me. I still held out hope that maybe this could be fixed, even if it's far in the future...
But that hope is dead now. It can't be fixed because you don't want it to be fixed, so I can't do anything. If something happens, great. But, most likely, nothing will.
I can feel myself falling apart. Day by day, hour by hour, I lose a little piece of myself. I guess I've just already given so much that now I'm unraveling, coming apart at the seams because nothing is holding the seams together. I've unstitched the very fabric of my being for those I've loved. I gave them part of it, still connected to me, with the hope they would stay there, stay by my side, and with each time I did this, and with each time they're ripped away from me regardless of how hard I try, as if I hold no power in this world, as if all my efforts do nothing, I've been pulled apart. Now I've lost enough that I don't even need to be pulled apart to fall to pieces, I can do that on my own ow. And I do.
Not on purpose, mind you. I don't pick at what little stitching I have left. But it falls apart anyway, just by the mere fact that time is passing.
I can't save myself. Just like before, I can't do this on my own. But this time, if I'm not saved, I'm legitimately concerned I'll collapse to some new low, some lower state of being where I'll be trapped. Instead of transcending into some new form like some people believe they can, I'm going to break through the floor and become even more oblivious and uncaring and just generally broken and I'm not sure once my fabric becomes entirely undone whether I can be put back together again. Can you even put a soul back together again? Is it like a physical thing where, even if it might take a lot of work and time, it can be fixed, even improved? Or is it nothing like that and once it becomes unraveled, it's lost to the void? I hope it's the former, because I'm already unraveling. And I hope someone will save me. I don't want to become undone...