It feels like I know too much now. 

Like I can predict the end before I even know someone’s name. 

I don’t even know how to get to the point where I would even consider again if trusting someone could be worth it. 

How would I even get to the point where I was asking that question? 

I just want to be left alone. I’m so tired. 

I don’t have the energy to try to prove myself to anyone. 

And I’m not brave. I’m fucking exhausted. 

I am angry at my mother. She should have been the first one to understand. 

And instead she tried to guilt-trip me for writing it down. She needed to believe the worst of me. 

It was easier. Maybe it was an illness.

Whatever it was, it needed to be fixed, and it wasn’t her fault. 

She just couldn’t comprehend that her choice to betray herself didn’t mean I was consenting to the same arrangement. 

I was so lonely. I’m still so lonely. I think I’ll always feel lonely.