maybe i can’t feel anything anymore because there’s nothing left for me to open my eyes to. maybe at eighteen i had a giant epiphany that escaped my notice and i’m just complacently waiting for something bigger than me to happen. i don’t know myself anymore. 

it’s not because of you. i don’t have convulses because i’m forever alone and a bunch of hipster girls in instragramed pictures on beaches have somehow managed to convey every single spec of loneliness. 

the fact of the matter is that if i wanted things to be different they would be. i’m sick of this feeling that i need you to complete me. that kisses in the rain are what we should live for. i want to be happy for myself, not because you need me to be. 

let’s face it, if you wanted me you could’ve had me a million times over with your smile. but, i’ve changed. the tables are turned and i want to delete you from my life not because you wronged me. 

but because being with you, i robbed myself of something. 

sincerely, 

your doormat