Constant. Chronic. A dull, dull ache in my chest. In my heart. In my stomach.
So tired of crying over you.
So tired of loving you.
So tired of you loving me back but choosing a different life.
There is not a soul in this world that would not be fine without me.
Tough pill to swallow.
I am no one’s person.
I would have thought I was, to several people, but everyone chooses a different life. One without me. Every single person.
I’m honestly not sure how you can walk away and say you’d be upset if something happened to me. That doesn’t make sense. How would it actually affect you if you have chosen to walk away when I’m alive?
I don’t understand.
Every. Single. Person.
A dull, dull ache that stabs sometimes. Constant. Chronic.