It's the full on pity party.

If I'm going to put on the pity party, I might as well go full total pity.

I put it on.

The eulogy.

That my mother recorded.

Before she died.

Because I told her she wasn't going to live.

It was a simpler time. I used to have love in my hands, you know. Now, it slips through fingers, ungraspable, and will never be again.

I never believed in that "one love" thing, but sometimes I do now, because I let it get away from me. The choices were "my soul" and "marriage", and I foolishly chose my soul. I suppose I will never have the happiness I seek, a person to share my dreams with, because the dream is dead, and has been, for so long. I give up. With every guy I meet, it's the same thing, will always be the same thing, will never be anything different. It will never be. I will never find the peace that I so desperately crave, because I crave it. It will never come.

It doesn't matter the choices I make, the prayers I pray, nothing. Nothing changes. It's always the same, and I want run away. From myself, the world, everything. I try so hard, I try so little, and it doesn't make a fucking difference, and I'm realizing, it never will.

"You are all the most important persons in my life"

Stained with tears, the CD won't even play. And now, Fuck You, Fate. I know you hate me. I even fail at having a pity party.

The world can end now. I'm too chicken to commit suicide.