I hate the knowing.
The knowing of what's going to happen before it happens.
I know what she's going to say.
I know what he's going to do.
Predictability.
People.
Reactions.
I've been here before.
I don't know how much time I have left.
But.
I know it isn't much.
So.
Can we just cut to the chase.
I'm going to say.
Then you're going to say.
Then I'm going to counter with.
And you're going to react like.
So I'll reinforce.
You'll roll your eyes.
And the dance goes on.
How about we just say "*******" and call it a night?
Then I can go back to drinking.
You can put down the facade of empathy.
And.
Well I guess I don't know after that.
I suppose.
We'll both find someone else to dance with.

Have you suffered?
I mean drunk in the rain at two in the morning crying because you haven't eaten in four days and you can't find your dog since you left the door open in the intoxicated hopes that she would come walking back into your life and tell you that you aren't as crazy as you think you are?
A physical pain so agonizing you start scanning the room for tools to aid you in taking your own life but you lack the strength to get up so you start shredding a pillowcase into strands to tie around the doorknob but it rips.
A loss so profound it's as if a boulder has been placed on your chest so that your arms could be ripped off more easily to keep you from trying to hold onto semblance of life from that point on, that could compare to how it was before you lost that person but in reality you don't care because the light has been ****** from your life and you know that your days will never get any brighter than they are right now?
A betrayal? Someone you coveted above everything else in your life just curb stomping everything you had held so close for so long you assumed it was indestructible? A cut to the very core of something you had long held to be something of quality, value, and longevity?
I need to know you suffer.

She trapped herself in small worlds
In her search for big dreams