Nobody hurt me, I hurt myself...still.

It kills me that I don't feel the things I remember, it all feels so damn dream like.
As if I was in a coma and I'm just now waking, that this year was me reacquainting myself with the world.
I knew him, he knew me.
I try to force it all back into reality.
I should feel it feel him, feel her but there's nothing there.
All those years, they're just gone.
All these tears, they're all I've got.
There's no documenting any of it and if I don't feel the memories then what is there to hold onto?

They were real, IT was real, we existed.
Now they exist, life moves on, I waste away.

You know enough about it. No matter what though, no amount of knowledge could ever bring you close to being there - NONE. So no matter how many times I go on and on about it, you can only sit there and nod your damn heads, feign interest, feign concern - I'm in it STILL. I'll never get out of my own fucking head.

Apparently it takes me at least one year to process the real brutal shit. Yeah, yeah pat me on the back I got away - from what?? You don't know, you can't tell me.

Won't you just fucking see me?
See and know that I'm falling apart, that I need to be rescued?
That it's easier to be strong and take care of you than sit around and wait for someone to do it for me??

What you're seeing, it's not what you're getting.

**Theme music to all this bullshit - "Not Enough" by Our Lady Peace**

Grazie mille.