Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness, errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds. It dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. With friends and significant others.
Well, I don't know what to do. I'm having a good life and everything is going great, but theres still a little part in me that hurts. That is empty. I'm tired of it. It makes me think "what if the world and everything around me that is going okay is... fake?" I hate that. I probably sound emo and shit, but I'm not. I'm just PISSED.