((Please just ignore this. I wouldn't consider this a vent, because I barely put anything I needed to in here, but here you go. I was trying my best))

It's a pain.

I've tried most of my worthless life to make things closer and closer to picture-perfect. The thing is- does that even exist, really? An absolutely flawless existence is pretty undeniably impossible to grasp... at least I think so. Do you not remember anything about the world anymore? Do you not think I'm annoying, and worthless, and stupid, among other things? Because he does, and I do.

Many a time I've ventured off, exploring my insecurities in painful detail. By now it is a constant occurrence for the fear and sick thoughts to control me. You think I'm talking right now, darling... that isn't me. You even think you know me, but you can't tell the fucking difference. However, I suppose we aren't too apart by now, so maybe we are one after all this time. We're very good friends. He'll never leave me. And he's been here longer than you.

Every day he makes things so much harder. Sometimes I wonder what being free feels like too, but I suppose that doesn't matter too much. I may try to leave but he'll pull me right back, like iron filings on a magnet. He makes me wish I was dead, sure...

...but we're good friends.