It is over now. There are things that cannot be taken back. Words, arrows, time.
I thought I was strong. Clearly I’m not. I’m not good at being strong, and I’m not good at hiding either. My strength has always been an illusion. Emptiness is real. Emptiness is who I am.
Crying over things I do for other people. Doing things for other people.
It’s been so long since the last time I feel this dead-ended.