I like hitting my head and hurting my heart. Feelings don’t mean anything when I am the way I am. Can’t tell me nothing. I like the pain. I hit my head over and over again. I know your not coming to save me. I know he doesn’t exist. He should’ve been me and I wouldn’t be here in the first place but I put he in the first place and me, I didn’t even make it. Simple mistakes. She could’ve told me that. She went through this but I never listen to anyone but experience. I’ll be over it soon. I’ll move past and she can say I told me so. I’m cool with that. Only after a certain level of suffering does anyone move, only after you’ve learned and been constantly burned, only then do I budge. I told you I like the pain, learning again.