I may have some bad shit going on with my life. It's probably just a reflection of an emotional debris which has been building up for years now. I get lost in all those colours and I can't tell the difference between needs and obsessions.
When I look at the person I've become, I realize that I wouldn't be friends with me. Not because of the countless mental illnesses I'm struggling with. I know my worth and it's not much but there are times I'm a safe spot, giving comfort to those who are in need. I'm trying to be a good person, a better one. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's my ability to heal the wounded. What about my wounds? Every single time I get close to cure an opening, I've been left behind by those I've trusted with my weaknesses and as far as I know there is no one left to help me.
Weeks, months passed and I'm still waiting for a change. A magical touch, a person, a feeling, maybe an opportunity. It feels like years actually. Nothing shows a glimpse of change unless you try. Well, I did. And I've hurt myself, hurt the people around me. My ever changing moods pushed people away and I lost everything.
I don't know if you are the one I've been searching for and I'm aware that I need to be patient. Figure out what this really is. Broken souls are willing to give everything they have if a chance is present. It never happened and please, not again.
I already know that I fucked this up. You are far too gone. Who wants to deal with a time bomb anyway? You have every right to turn away since I'm terrible at hiding how crazy I am.
This is the act of my ending.