I’m a fuck up. Always have been. I do everything I can to make sure those around me are good. Never ask for anything in return. When I fall apart, I don’t ask for help being put back together. I’m a loner. I found love. Gave it my all. That love was literally the only thing that stopped me from killing myself. Now that love is about to leave and it might have all been fake. I’m so desperate for love, I let myself fall for love I know isn’t real just so I can feel something. I just want to be loved. I’ve lost all faith in everything. Lost my faith in god, love, and life. I have no purpose on the earth. None. If I killed myself tonight, my family would be devastated… for a while. Then, as do all people when someone they love dies, they regain their normal life and my only thought will be a picture frame on a table they glance at on holiday. That such a deafening thought. Bums me out that I could end it all tonight and the ripple effect would be so small and meaningless. I don’t what do anymore
Is it too late for me
Or is this all I’ll ever be?