Life is a funny thing you know.
It has hobby and ability to knock you down every time you think everything is fine under your control.
I am here still waiting.
It is exhausting. So bloody exhausting have to questioning everything all the time. I feel like a grenade which can explode anytime. I still have my doubts.
How could I trust you?
How could I believe you?
Why should I?
I ask myself, "So, how many more confirmations do you need for what you already know?"
Sometimes, I wonder what kind of direction my life would've taken if I had never met you that night down by the water. I can't decide if it would be better or worse, and that's what scares me most about all of this. For all of the alternatives and potential situations I give myself about what could've happened had I never agreed to meet you that day. I still can't decide if I actually, truly, wish I had never met you. I think there's a part of me, no matter how badly you hurt me, that will always be so grateful to have had the chance to know you. For as much as you broke me, you made me whole in different ways.
I am damaged at best. Like you've already figured out. You got inside my head. Tried my best to be guarded. I'm an open book instead.
The broken locks were a warning. I'm falling apart when that happened. I'm barely breathing for almost a week. I'm barely holding on to you.
Hanging on another day. Just to see what you will throw my way. And I'm hanging on to the words you say. You said that I will, will be OK
If you've taught me anything, it's that loving you was both my destruction, and my salvation.
