I want to get away from this. I think I have got away, but the feeling, ever so feeble, does come back.
Why? Why? Why?
To make myself believe that you don't love me and so I also shouldn't is an attempt so brave and so successful. I have been successful as a whole. I don't feel the numbness of loneliness. I don't feel the pain of being detached. But, when I count the seconds and microseconds of my life, the life I go through for no milestones to cross, no goal to attain, I understand that it is only because you keep away from me that I retain my sanity.
Don't come back to me, don't ever.
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