It just isn’t worth it.

It isn’t worth beating yourself over something you can’t control.

It isn’t worth crying over spilt milk.

It isn’t worth obsessing over the future.

It isn’t worth the regret.

It isn’t worth losing your mind over.

It isn’t worth waiting to a point beyond return.

It isn’t worth losing yourself over.

It isn’t worth giving up on your self.

It isn’t worth changing yourself over.

It isn’t worth doubting your worth.

It isn’t worth the time you spent thinking of it.

It isn’t worth the wasted mind numbing arguments.

It isn’t worth the obscurity.

It isn’t worth a second thought.

It isn’t worth the sleepless nights.

It isn’t worth the wreck that it made you.

It isn’t worth the conviction.

It isn’t worth reasoning with.

It isn’t worth crying over.

It isn’t worth fighting over.

It isn’t worth dying over.

It isn’t worth living for.

It isn’t worth the effort.

It isn’t worth the pain, the sacrifice or the strife.

It’s done and dusted and for whatever that’s worth, it got you to where you are, which is exactly where you need to be.

If there’s one thing it’s worth, it’s that you made it. And it dawned upon you like some holy light that it just wasn’t worth it.

Sometimes it just isn’t freaking worth it.

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