All of this.
This is the end. My stomach is in my chest and my heart is in my feet and my mind sailed out the window just a short time ago.
And I have no one to talk to but her. Because no one else could possibly understand, but how does one explain themselves in this situation?
And she speaks to me as if we never happened, as if I'm not as fragile as I once was... Only now I'm more fragile than ever, holding onto something that could never be.
...I think I may vomit.
It hasn't hurt this much in years.
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