Why is it so hard to move on?
She has stolen from me, treated me like she doesn’t even know me and left me with a legacy of self hate. It’s partly her fault that I’m hurt like this. Is that why I can’t let go?
I want her back. More than anything, I want to sail through life with her, experiencing everything there is. I built my life to be free. I spent three years oppressed, working myself out of a hole. Now I can be free only now it seems too late.
I miss her smile, I miss the time we had. I miss the theatre.
Every drink I have reminds me. Every free moment reminds me. Every fucking day reminds me. This house, these walls, my camera.
Haven’t I paid a thousand times over for what we had? I was so fucking stupid. Why did I believe her.
