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Looking at that title… It’s so short and dry. This post should carry the weight of these ten years, starting from the title and continuing with the actual text… But it won’t in either, and how could it? And, if it could, what would there still be to say? It’s not like much changed from last year, or, in fact, in the ways that matter most, over all these years. I’m still here, sitting in the same corner of the same room of the same apartment, even wearing some clothes I had even back when we first talked, although the furniture and computer are otherwise different. I’m still the same person, I still feel the same things, wish for the same things, somehow still sometimes just about manage to lie to myself enough to almost believe there may be some shred of reason to hold on to the same hopes, someday, if only because I seem to still be physically alive and it’d be… Well, I know that’s not a proper term, but it’d sure be even more terrible if all this time and the suffering the came with it, and all that will still come, won’t eventually be justified… And there’s only one way in which it could be.

Wasn’t even sure when I’ll write this, but after sleeping no more, and probably slightly less, than three hours this morning and then going out for a while as well, I only managed to nap for another hour in the evening, unable to get back to sleep after waking up. Tried for a while, but clearly wasn’t going to work and the longer I waited, the more likely I was to do something stupid when I eventually got up and on the computer, so I’m writing it now and scheduling it to be posted at the usual time. Not that it means I won’t still do something stupid later, but it may be slightly less stupid. Or simply slightly less…

You know what’s strange? That I somehow didn’t write a July 12 post this year. But those are even stranger, aren’t they? Actually, what are they? A way to commemorate on my own what should have been an anniversary, a celebration, that only I care about or even remember, and which hasn’t actually existed in so many years? I don’t know… Not that it matters. Days blend together, after all, and so do weeks and months and years. Maybe these few days just feel different because I allow myself to be a little less “dead” inside, hope more, lie to myself a little differently and the difference between reality and expectations increases even further… Because the needs sure don’t change.

‘Tis sad to hear how young love has died
To know that, alone, someone has cried
But memories are ours to keep
To live them again, in our sleep

And I guess that’s about it for now. I’ll just schedule this to be posted at 4 AM, as usual, since it was about 4 AM when she left, ten years ago, and then… I don’t know. I’ll see whether I’ll do something stupid, or how stupid it’ll be… The problem, as always, being that things can always get much worse, and often do. Of course, in theory they can also get better, but in practice that doesn’t really happen, or not in the ways that truly matter, and improvements in other areas can’t have enough of an impact to improve the overall situation, though of course problems in any area definitely worsen it.

My fall will be for you
My love will be in you
You were the one to cut me
So I will bleed forever

And it does hurt, you know? Even physically, I mean… Or perhaps it’s something else, and perhaps I’m just exhausted. Or, more exactly, perhaps that’s the main reason right now, since it’s obvious I’m exhausted physically as well. But maybe not, because this kind of pain affects every part of one’s being and is felt in every possible way.
I find it rather insulting that some relatively recent studies confirmed this, as if any truly hearbroken person in history didn’t already know it… And as if the others never believed them. Which, of course, is far closer to the truth.

Time will not heal a Dead Boy’s scars
Time will kill


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