History repeats itself..alot

4 years ago, I really didn’t know who I was. I was pretty clueless, but the one thing I did know was I hated being lonely. So, I made friends, and I tried desperately to cling onto it, to the point of changing everything about me. Needless to say, that was a bad idea. I tried desperately to not feel the empty abyss of noiseless nights and uneventful days. But, in the end I doubt I had any friends. I doubt anyone liked me, liked anything about me. Yet I still thought otherwise. I wanted to believe otherwise.  It drove me to the edge of suicide. Flash forward to now and it’s the same thing. People seeing my faults, me changing them. People I talk to alot, people I thought were my friends. And of course, me always being the outsider.

I should of learned the first time that I can’t trust anyone. That, I never had real friends. That everyone around me were pretending, just wishing I was gone or waiting for a chance to ditch me. Why can’t the ultimate painkiller which numbs all this pain?

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