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your eyes tell stories...

its come to the point where im not even sure crying makes it better. it fucking brings back memories, its something i thought you would never, ever do. its something way more than what you think it is...even without me reading into it too much. everything hurts. and im torn whether i want to give in this time. because there will never be a next time for this situation. ever ever ever ever never. lets make that clear.

just plain and simple: my heart hurts. im really fucking speechless. and all i could do was stand at my fucking window with my head against the glass praying that you would come back up and apologize, hug me, do anything. all i wanted was just one something to tell me that you really didnt mean it. but as i watched you, you never even fucking looked back. i used to go through this daily...i used to skin my fucking knees on the concrete begging for him to come back in....until i realized that no one is worth bleeding for. and i stopped. with him, i stopped. so why begin again? so why begin with bleeding again? why scrape my fucking body up for someone that cant even glance back for me. why ride all the way over to your house for an apology? when you are the one that should using everything in your force to wipe away all these fucking tears. poor veronica. god, poor fucking veronica. this is why i got depressed. because bad shit just kept coming and coming and coming...and i never ever once got an apology. poor veronica, sitting in a dark room, in a fucking pitch black room, just fucking wishing that this was some nightmare and that i would wake up soon. but its not. its not anything but reality. and in all this fucking reality i wish i was dead.

9:02 p.m. - 2004-09-14

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