I am lost. I can feel my impending doom coming slowly, inching closer. There is no amount of fear instilled in me to make myself pick up the pieces and do something productive. There is no motivation. Not even enough to get out of bed. Ever. I need, so much, for him to just come back. I am only sane with you. Because you have kept me safe.
Everything I thought I could put pieces of myself into, has shattered. I am a mess of anxiety hidden behind a mirror of pretending. I make the best deceptions, at times enough to deceive myself.
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