feeling insane. advice sometimes hangs on decision like weights, dragging them down further into indecisive oblivion. some days happiness seems like my due, and others i am sopping wet with other people's expectations and perceptions.
it's true, i don't know what to do. i don't know if i can do this for the rest of my life. my love is expansive for him, but is it enough? is there enough here to build a working life?
fuck it. don't take advice from people who can't seem to have a successful relationship to save their life.
ectomorphing endomorphs burn paper for warmth in asylum beds while wondering where their mothers are no one to help you now the white walls scream not like there ever was
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