He asked “but why?”
I laughed that shy hiding-more-pain-than-I-show laugh for a split second and said: women do things for different reasons and they don’t have to be happy doing what they do.. Sometimes they enjoy that sweet pain in the heart.. Makes them feel alive.. Or loved.
He couldn’t understand and looked away.
I thought to myself how many times have I committed suicide and succeeded? Countless. I don’t even remember how I got here. Fate they say.. I say I might not be alive but living in spite of the choices I’ve made.
Wake me up and tell me this isn’t real, or tell me it’s real I don’t care but also tell me it’s over please!