[ I wish I were inebriated.1 ]

I wish I were inebriated.1

Anything to make this stinging reality stop, anything to make it all stop. 2

I can't eat, can't sleep. I'm wounded, infected, and lost.3

Why is he allowed to come around here? Why is he allowed to show that he cares? Shouldn't those privileges be null and void when you say that you don't want to work it out?4

I have writers block, I'm losing my job and I'm not quite sure I have it in me to pretend I actually care about it. 5

It's hard to pretend I actually care about anything. There is no medium, I'm either empty or sad, and I hate teetering on two polar opposites. 6

I want to check myself into a facility just to escape him.7

The room we share, the notes I write, the person I am losing (and I'm not talking about him) - it makes me want to vomit. It makes me want to cry, and scream and curse the day I ever met someone so beautiful. 8

You're sickly, and toxic, and destructive. This whole thing is.9

I want this to start over, or to be over. 10

I just want to scream and shout that I simply do not care any more. I don't care! I don't care that you were too selfish to work it out like a real couple, I don't care that there is no life but a fake one here now, I don't care that everything in this paper fantasy makes me itch like I was allergic.11

I don't care if I ever go back to that place, I don't care if I ever go back to you. I don't care about a stupid filler job. I don't care about a stupid filler home.12

Replace all, minus the job statement, with I do. 13

I do care about you. I still love you.14