I hate feeling like I’m not allowed to love. Like I am not supposed to feel the way I feel. Like I can miraculously just hide all these things that I feel, that I have felt until one day they just disappear. God only knows I wish I knew how to disappear, because I would have done so some time ago. Over the past few years I have felt myself drifting off into an abyss, all the while knowing I could never find my way back out. I’ve been damned by something as functional as the heart. It function in the wrong tone, in a way that is more hazardous than helpful. It seems like it is keeping me alive only so it can kill me from the inside out slowly. Wishing for nothing more than an end to the heartache, to the lonely nights, to the irrational crying at absolutely anything, everything that has some sort of emotion behind it. I hate that something as beautiful and emotional as love can be so fucking twisted, and dangerous in the hands of the wrong person. That one single wrong thing can be a complete train wreck. Can tear a persons world down to the bitter truth and show them exactly where the evil in this world hides. And that fire you once felt for someone is now the inferno that consumes every last bit of you until there is nothing left but ash that falls at a passerby’s feet only to be kicked away as if nothing, ever even mattered. Because in the end it never does.