this is on my mind right now.
I couldn’t keep this up anymore. Not to myself, not to my family and not to my so-called friends. Without him I was nothing, just an empty shell of the former me. It’s just a miracle they haven’t seen it yet. How they couldn’t see how heart shattered I'm after he left. They just keep thinking that it would get over soon; soon I would be back to normal. I’d laugh again, smile again and sing again. But no, I knew better than trying to telling myself I could be happy without the man I loved. Never, I could never be happy again. Not after what happened, not after his death.
Vissligen är det här bara början och resten av berättelsen kommer vara skriven i pågående form tror jag det heter... aja, den är inte skriven så här alltså men jag ville ha en plötslig början. Och ett sorligt slut såklart, sånn är ju jag. (Har inte kontrollerat staving och grammatik)
