Honestly, I have no idea how long I can keep doing this. I am tired. I am frustrated. I am annoyed. I am furious. Not at anyone. But on my own self. How can I be in this situation? After everything being so perfect, what did I do wrong to land myself in such a spot that getting out of it seems impossible.
But, it is possible. Everyone keeps telling me it is and a part of me actually believes it is. But I think that part of me is just that hopelessly hopeful part that believes in magic and the existence of love. Like, they are not some fictional words used by just poets and dreamers for a feeling they can't entirely explain.
But, wait, wasn't I this person too? Didn't I write poems on love and lovers, on magic and universe, on people I love and on people I thought loved me too. Now, when I read them, I don't seem to recognize my words anymore. How did I write all of that? How did I feel all of that and WHY don't I feel it anymore?
What happened that I don't feel it anymore. What did I do that I don't feel it anymore? So, I don't know how long I can do this. Because this is not me and I can't recognize the person smiling in the old pictures of mine.
And with this, in this, I think I am losing everything. I am lost and I can't find the way back. To my words, to myself, to everything I once loved. So, I don't know how long I can do this.