It's currently 10:54 on a Monday night, and I've never felt more alone.
"Get over it, move on," they plead. They make it sound easy.
My heart is broken, my eyes swollen and red, my face wet with tears that never stop.
The worst yet, my mind.
What was then a space for tranquility and inner peace is now replaced with darkness and despair.
I can't do anything because of you.
I can't sleep
I can't eat
I can't speak
I can't move.
I am broken. Not my body, but my heart and mind.
I used to be filled with light and fun: now I am dead. A shell of my old self.
Physically, I am alive and well.
Mentally, I am dead and living again through hell.
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