Point lost

I currently don’t see the point of living anymore. I don’t want to sound gloomy, but I really don’t feel like my life has a purpose or that it’s leading me somewhere. I just exist, no more no less.

I will keep on living to spare my parents the grief of losing their child, but if it wasn’t for them, I don’t think I’d find an other reason to keep walking this planet. I have nothing special, peculiar to give this world.
Like I said, I will keep on living for the sake of my parents, but that’s about it. There is no joy, no goal. I lost everything. I am an empty shell. I am alive yet lifeless.


It’s funny how it creeps up on you. How you are managing to keep yourself busy the entire day, when all of the sudden you find yourself thinking about the things you so desperately wanted to avoid thinking about.

Evenings are the trickiest, when blank moments interfere with the carefully planned out schedule to keep your mind occupied. When it’s quiet in-between music tracks and drops of sadness scatter over your body, a sense of longing interweaving itself with tiredness and old memories. You stare at your computer screen and no matter how hard you try, you cannot shut the door to barricade the flood of emotions washing over.

I cannot help but hope you are missing me as much as I’m missing you. That somehow, I managed to make an impact on your life, and that you are starting to feel a certain void I left. I hope that you, too, have these moments where you catch yourself thinking about me, and that no matter what, you cannot help but -feel-.

It creeps up on me, this desire. No matter how I try to fool the world that it isn’t, it’s still there. This desire for you to come back. This desire for you to want me back. This desire to mean more than your friends, more than your comfort zone.

I still desire to accomplish what your exes couldn’t fantom: breaking through your unpenetrable walls.


And thus, it’s the realization I failed, and that someone else might succeed, that is slowly poisoning me with its ink black tentacles.

It creeps up on you slowly, until you’re fully engulfed, and the black suffocates you.

I have trouble breathing and I’ve been crying for the last 20 minutes or so. I don’t know what happened, it just came up suddenly.

I’ve seen you last weekend. I was waiting for you to ask me to stay just a little longer. You didn’t. You gently pushed me away.

You haven’t replied for 3 days. I hate myself for counting days, hours even. I shouldn’t be doing this, and it’s freaking me out. But I’m still doing it and I can’t help it.

For the first time I feel scared that I won’t be able to continue this for much longer.

I don’t want to lose you, but I’m so tired of crying, of doubting myself, of waiting, of making things appear prettier than they are, of you not.. missing me?

I don’t feel like I’m in a relationship. And it hurts so bad.

I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t anymore. I can’t.

I’m so sad.