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I'm sorry. Two little words that have so much emotion, so much anger and tears and laughter and headache and pain and guilt and regret attached to it. It's all I can so though. There's no forgiveness coming. I know that. I have quite literally made the bed I now lay in next to a partner that is a stranger in a home that isn't mine in a town where I feel so isolated.
I'm sorry I've allowed you to become this person you no longer recognize...this bitter, resentful woman that seems to hate so fucking much. Don't ask me how we got here because I don't think I could pin it on one thing. It's a combination of a loving yet narcissistic home, friends that used you until you were no longer useful, boyfriends and girlfriends that treated you like shit and you let them because you were so desperate for someone...anyone...to love your fat, ugly body.
I wish for so many things different. I wish I would have finished college and gotten that biology degree he said was useless or that writing degree she said was pointless. I wish I would have given you a chance instead of letting everyone else decide what was best for our life.
Now it's too late. Our health is in the shitter, our dreams have long ago become the fantasy stories you used to love to write and now you cling to a love and a life that feels hopeless and unfulfilled because you're afraid to be alone. Your biggest fear is dying alone and you know if this relationship ends you won't have the strength to do this again. We've been hurt too much and we've hurt too many.
So...all that's left is my Hollow apology to the shell that's left of me. I've got nothing left inside. I feel co.pletely dead and the task of getting out of bed every day gets harder and harder and fucking harder. But we will keep doing it because we are too much of a pushy to end it. No...we much prefer this suffering and making others suffer with us.
I just want to go back. If I could just go back. So many people say they wouldn't change anything because of all the good and the people they've met along the way. I would. I'd go back. I'd change it all. Every last bit of it and pray that I could wake up just one day and feel proud of myself or happy to be alive. Guess that's just another one of those dried up dreams...
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