I distance myself from the people who matter.
I am bad with people.
I am good at being alone.
But I hate being lonely.
The drugs took parts of him away, parts I used to love, but they also took away his unhappiness; at least for a while. I’ve spent so much time hating him that I’ve forgotten that he isn’t always like this, that I didn’t always feel this way. I don’t know how to fix him, nobody does. I don’t know how to love him anymore, nobody does.
It’s hard to live in the present when the future seems so much more exciting.
The moment, after it’s passed
The words, after they’re spoken and
The time, after it’s lost.
In fact, I hadn’t thought about him at all.