The first week I was sad.
So very, very, very sad.
I was on the verge of tears the entire week.
I thought “be brave” one minute and “I can’t fucking do this” another.
The second week I was angry.
I was pissed.
I wanted to scream at you, I wanted to hit her, I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me.
But I didn’t, because I knew I couldn’t inflict the same pain on you.
And now, three weeks later, I don’t know how I feel.
A little lost. A little sad. A little angry. A little restless.
Wait. No. You know what this is?
I used to care, I used to care with all my heart and soul.
That’s my thing – I love.
I give my love out to anyone and everyone, but some people I give my everything to – you were one of those people.
But now I feel nothing. I am apathetic.
And you know what the scary thing is?
I don’t know if this is permanent.
If you’ve changed me into this, or if it’s temporary.
But I can’t seem to make myself care, and because of that, I don’t know who I am anymore.
And that’s really frightening.