it feels so fake, every time i say it's going to be okay.
because i don't know that.
i don't feel that.
it's robotic, it's unreal.
it stopped meaning anything after the first time i lied, when she told me she wanted to die, and i told her that everything would be fine.
i can't tell the future, i can't know it's gonna be okay.
i can't say that it gets better.
i can't say that one day you'll be happy, while i'm trying to convince myself that's true.
i told a friend how scared i am that im going to fall apart.
she said, don't worry. it gets better.