THIS
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aeortizvictoria
aeortizvictoriawho hurt you
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
Her.

THIS

How do you live knowing that the one you love , loves someone else The love of your life, has someone else as the love of their life.

How do you fucking wake up and drag yourself through a mediocre existence!? What's the point of being happy if you're not really fucking happy!? You're just faking it. Scraping by. HOW IS THAT LIVING!?

Tell me!? You're not living. You're settling. So you drink. Drink and drink and drink and drunk. You mask your pain. You drown your sorrows. Bottle after bottle.

You smile because you can't feel your face any longer. And that means you can't face your fears. You're here but you're not present. You're just a hollow shell.

Breezing thru the moments. Coasting. Another sip. A gulp. You can feel her name sneaking its way to your lips. You swallow it down with another gulp. All you can taste is the booze.

The room is spinning and you're dizzy but you somehow feel in control. Everything is going to be all right. You close your eyes and it stops. All of it. The spinning. The dizziness. The uncertainty. The pain. The sorrows. The depression and angst.

It all just disappears and you're at peace. Silence. Not a sound. Is this what heaven is like?

Is this death? Am I dead? Am I dying? If this is death, I welcome it. With open arms. Can every moment be just like this? Can I seize this moment and make it mine. Forever. This moment. Right here. This moment of pure bliss.

This. This is living. This is what songs are made of.

But then you wake up in the morning. Or afternoon. Who knows what time is anymore. You awake with a pounding in your skull. Your mouth dry. Your heart weak. And you realize that THIS. THIS is your reality. And THIS is living.

The thoughts come racing. Your heart starts pounding. Your breathing- it's out of control. You want it all to stop. You want last night back.

You want the silence and the freedom.

And so the cycle begins. You pour yourself another drink and drown out the sorrows of yesterday. And today. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. And the next until you're not even sober anymore.

This is your reality. This is your existence.

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