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fuck you . i wasted my life for you .

i am not my arrogant father， or my absent mother． i am also not my resentful grandmother， nor a political pig like my grandfather． manipulative uncle？ no． dismissive aunt？ not quite． i am … so much worse．

thank you for forever ( a year and a half . )

i wish not to make the same mistake my grandmother made of marrying wrong， my father for having a child too early， and my family’s denial of being sick in the head．

Over my dead body will I ever marry anyone like my father nor his father．

do you … do you truly love me？ why would you treat me this way …？

they said “if he hurts you one more time， i swear， i’ll kill him” but what if i’m hurt to the point it doesn’t really hurt anymore？ what if he killed me first？

i keep wishing for more， more， more． but why do you keep giving me less and less and awfully less？

it frustrates me， how i deeply crave for comfort that i have no idea how to attain．

i hate the way you seem to mishandle me． i’m so tired．

how endangered is a heart that becomes so awfully exhausted with resentment and the constant push and pull of hope and forceful try - agains？

would you rather i hate you or wish you to be someone else？

oh … i thought i was at least an eighth healed． i am still so terribly traumatized， am i a lost cause？ am i still worth saving？

rest easy now， dearest． i am no longer loved improperly —— wastefully．

do you still come across art and philosophy and have me cross your mind？

you’ve become a bullet in my extremely stringent father’s chamber．

i have a love - hate relationship with flowers．

do you still wish it was you？

i have sought and destroyed． now what？

don’t promise me forever， just promise me you’ll try．