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you spend so long internalizing your anger and wrapping it around to slowly inevitably suffocate yourself that you forget what it feels like to be outwardly angry at the person who deserves it.
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I miss him, I miss his voice. I want to smell his skin and feel his warmth
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What even happened this year other than slowly going broke and getting more depressed than ever
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Maybe the real brainwashing was the childhood trauma and suicidal ideation we rediscovered along the way
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I will never be loved, and if I think someone loves me, it’s a lie. If they say they love me, they are lying. I will always be alone
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I deserve to hurt like this. I deserve all the bad things that have ever happened to me and worse. I love to be abused. I need to be raped every day until my holes are worn out and then be forgotten and ignored in the corner of the basement until I’m eventually abandoned on the side of the road to die. I deserve to be reminded how little I matter.
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what if it doesn’t fill the void I’ve always had?
#he says I think bad thoughts and make bad decisions when left to my own devices#so why isn’t he fixing me#make the bad thoughts go away#help me be better#you know what I need#you’re Daddy#so be Daddy#what if we do all this and I’m still yearning for something#still unfulfilled#still lost at sea#what if that’s just my natural state of being and you can’t change it#what if I’m never going to be happy#what if I’m not meant to be
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We’ll be okay either way
And if we’re not okay
We’ll just keep going until we can’t
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I hope he’s not right about the acts of service thing. That it’s just a nice idea and I don’t actually want to do anything to help him. Maybe everything is just ideas to me. Maybe my whole world is just a labyrinth inside my head that I’m doomed to wander around in forever. Maybe it’s all just concepts and I’m just a concept and love is just a concept and forever is just a concept and nothing will ever be real enough to hold onto. Maybe I’m always going to wind up posting here where he can’t see and crying in the middle of the night. I wish I could show him this one day. I wish I could show him everything
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I think he has someone else. Or someone elses. What if that’s the case. What if it’s all just a giant manipulation by someone who I gave the perfect instructions on how to manipulate me. Why would anything ever be anything but that
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