Every now and then I dive back into my memories and lose myself in the promises and heartbreak and lessons learnt. You meet me there, every time reassuring me that we made the right decision walking away from this catastrophe. The encounter lingers on me, like a ghost, I guess that makes sense though, that’s all you are to me now.
I’ve had glasses thrown at me, been punched by a boy, used, abused, and threatened, I’ve taken a knife off someone before it got worse, I’ve seen people throw their lives away for their addictions, I’ve seen addictions rule and ruin my friends lives this year, and I don’t for a second pretend that’s the end of it, because it isn’t. The more I see, the less I know, the more I know, the more I know I don’t know. And for the record, none of this makes me as sick as knowing the true reason I got thrown into this scary hazy chapter, wasn’t because I had a good CV, it was based on a photo.
I wish I could continue this, but unfortunately the people this is about are most likely reading this right now. Fuck you. I have a personality too.