I imagine an alternate universe, a better version of myself, accepted and loved by all.
More importantly, loved by the ones I loved and lost.
He picked me up from my misery only to drop me from a greater height into a deeper pit of depression.
I am grieving for people who aren't even dead.
I cannot cope anymore with life getting heavier and overwhelming.
I fear I will break down into something far more badly than I already am.
It's not just him you know? It's everything that life threw at me since I can't remember when.
I won't lie; I find comfort in this misery.
Isn't it funny that I want to stay in it and get out at the same time?