Not that I haven't, but I knew there was a possibility. Still, unwilling to deal with the cold, harsh reality of it, I pushed the thought out of my mind, trying to repress it.
My heart's damaged, bruised, and in need of healing, that's for sure.
But not enough to lead me into depression.
I know I'm stronger than that. I'm not going to cry, I'm not. Though when emotions run like this, I usually weep before I can think clearly. I'm not allowing myself to cry over you.
It probably isn't easy for you too. It's not going to be the same.
Why does it sting so much, when it wasn't even established in the first place? Why?
Till then...
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