It hurts me to think that
the only reason why
we’ve lasted so long is because
I’ve sacrificed what I wanted
to suit yours,
and it was okay.
for a year and some months,
it was okay.
I think I’ve had enough
of this shit.
it’s hard motivating myself.
it’s a vicious cycle of “maybes then don’t do” with me,
"maybe I’ll finish the calculus homework,"
"maybe I’ll wake up in time for school,"
"maybe I want to be a comp sci major,"
maybe I’m just afraid of living,
what’s the point really, of everything.
everything is done once you’re gone,
you can bullshit as much as you want to yourself
and say you’ll live in the memories of others,
but memories die, don’t they?
just like how I’ve forgotten what it was like to live for something again,
they would forget me too.