13 Months

I hate my life at this moment kinda always, but not when I’m with you. Not when I’m doing what I love. But right now I can’t do any of it. I haven’t touched the thing I love in over 13 months. Thirteen months just because someone did something stupid just because I dared to love something too much. And now, 13 months later, I’m scared I won’t love it anymore. Scared I’ll be scared of loving it. Scared I’ll lose myself in the fear. And if I don’t love it then what’s left? What’s the part of me that keeps me breathing? Because right now, honestly, I hate my life. And you don’t even notice.