I've failed, yet again. Disappointment washes over my swollen limbs and fevered heart. I wanted so desperately to write here often and I can't seem to accomplish that... these pages have been becoming more and more neglected as time creeps forward. The only reason I'm here now, writing, is because I feel so fucking lost and broken... I need the distraction to stop me from just giving in and ending this pitiful existence.
Things have continued to fall apart... despite my efforts to live my life without the echos of guilt and shame. The mirror reminds me, family reminds me, and even now the one I hold closest in my heart is a constant reminder of my short comings and past. It wasn't so long ago that I was so enthralled and encouraged to be a better man... that dream died the moment I shared my past with her. I am now unfit and untrustworthy to be a man worthy of a life and family... I'm forever scarred with the man I used to be. Truthfully, people generally don't change... they just become better at hiding their dirty little secrets and compulsions. But it can indeed happen... I'm proof of that. But what's the point of changing if people will only remember what was... forever clouding their eyes to what now is and the things to come? It weakens my faith and purges any hope of redemption and solace.
I just want to be happy... is that too fucking much to ask? How those elegant and captivating eyes have turned to dull, rusted daggers... stabbing at my throat and drowning the children in curdled blood, as my gullet swells and overflows with yesterday's bile and shame.Why? Why can't it? Why can't we...
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