Even when I'm having a good time I want this to end.
And yet I have this competitive spirit that keeps me alive. I don't know what is wrong with me... Honestly I don't wAnt to be cured. I want the opposite. I want to feed and nurture my illness. I want the sadness to consume me. If I went deep enough I could feel lonely no matter what. I could have the perfect companion and I could watch them struggle to keep me above water when I would have no choice but to drown.
That would be some sweet revenge.
I'm so useless. I wish it were different. I'm trying to lock myself away so no one has to see me. Know me...
I don't feel like my secrets are safe during this time of the year.
No one know this yet: that I want to die.
But how long can I live like this; how sick can I get, before this cannot continue.