it's never over.

A revamp, sort of.

It's simple, a start, something that will get added on to later.

I've wanted to write so badly recently. I can only think of one thing to write about, and I'm sick of bringing her up. I'm sick of thinking about her, of missing her, of listening to her favorite band, of wishing she were with me.

Sometimes I wish the last two years of my life had never happened, and that a few of the people that were brought into my life were brought in by someone else, not her. She made time stop and as her mind disappeared and her love disappeared, time froze. And then she disapeared forever and time moved slowly backwards. I found myself back where I had started when she didn't exist. The only difference was that now I had memories and a heart full of love and lonliness and nowhere to put any of it. The body that once filled the rest of an empty bed was gone, my hands were lonely, my lips longed for cheeks to kiss. A half a year later and time has not cured any emptiness. My body still lives alone, while hers is warmed by a replacement, someone she claims fate has sent her. Someone that cannot possibly feel the way that I had felt about her. My bones ache for her still and she never knew it. She told me once that she was pretending. Once, twice she told me she didn't really love me and that she may have not really loved me at all. That year and a half was just a dream, something I didn't really seem to be living.

Most of the time I was treated like total shit so I don't really even understand why I can't just let go of this........