trying to remember, hoping to forget

 

those moments

that seemed so happy and perfect and true

were less real than my wildest daydreams 

 

for some reason i think this should be comforting in light of what happened. but it's just making me more sad. maybe in time. is it worse if it was always fake or worse if it was real but ended just because of drugs? its not real, its not real, its not real what is? so fucking sad. how could you do this too me? i know you didn't mean to. and i know you know you changed things forever, i feel so sad thinking about you, so alone now and knowing that. theres no going back this time. maybe in time i will appreciate what a good thing that is. i want to be there for you. i know you are sick and homesick and hate yourself but i cant be about you anymore. im as sorry as i know you are. i guess it was made up of fake bits and real bits like everything. but after what happened you have to understand me questioning it... am i crazy too. for believing?

 

its these times i am so thankful for md. how would i cope without it. with it at least i can effectively dream (for a while) that my life gets better. (where do normal people find hope?) but does doing this just set me up for disappointment? lead me to guys like you? i wish my brain would shut off.                                                                      

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