"There’s a reason I’ve always said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ‘cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone. Because what if you learn that you need love, and then you don’t have it? What if you like it? And lean on it? What if you shape your life around it, and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is death ends. This? This can go on forever."
these days are hard.
Sometimes I'm sitting with my family, or sitting alone, and it just hits me out of nowhere, the realization of how much I miss your presence in my life, how much I miss our talks, your teasing, everything. But that follows with what happened, how you preferred a person you started talking few months ago over me, me whom you called your brother and you had known for few years now. I was the person who gave preference to you over everyone, because I called you my family. You once told me not to expect too much from you but at least you could have known your priorities. Or maybe you had always known, it was just me who didn't know them. Stupid me.