sometimes, i stop kidding myself and i look up at the blank ceiling.

on these nights i let my mind wander, i think back to all of the memories i have repressed; the good, the bad, the ones i try hardest to forget.

and it is on these nights that i truly immerse myself into the child i once was — the lonely child who was constantly ridiculed and betrayed by those she loved most.

i think back to when i was happy, or to when i thought  i was happy.

flashes of brightness, smiles and laughter.

fake.

like him.

for how could i forget how he made me feel, and how i thought he felt the same?

he was like a storm, a whirlwind of spontaneousness and raw emotion; but truly like a storm, he wreaked havoc and destroyed everything in his path.

me.

i open my eyes, my bloodshot eyes, and remember why i became this way.

i got lost in the storm.