I used to B.L.O.G.

I can't be alone. I have to be doing something. I have to be talking to someone. Because in the still of my room, the quiet, and just the sound of my fingers typing... kills me. It kills me to think of you. It kills me to not call you, It kills me that I can't see you. ever. It. Kills. Me. Sooner or later, you'll figure out why I was doing some things that looked wrong to you, it wasn't because I don't "get it". Honestly, I "get it". You were never going to let me "get it" with you. Sooner or later, you'll figure out that you were part of the problem too. And things you did, hurt me. I asked myself one day, why? Why did we keep going through it? I knew I wasn't good for you, so, why was I still there with you? Because I loved you? I guess. You were never going to let me love you, you were never going to let me do, anything. It kills me, that you're not here, it kills me that one of these days you're going to be reading this and saying to yourself, that I'm all wrong. That I screwed up everything. I don't put any blame on you. I only blame myself for things that I don't think I did for you, but I never blame you for anything, even for things that you did. Because I love you? I guess. It kills me, that I have free evenings and weekends on my phone, and I don't take advatage of it. It kills me, that I pushed myself to be an asshole, for you to leave me. It kills me, every letter, every tap of a key, every second. It kills me. So tell me, how do I stop myself from dieing? - God is Love.