Devanitized

Devanitized

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

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Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

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Submitted: February 01, 2017

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Content

Submitted: February 01, 2017

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Happy anniversary. I almost didn't post it. Ten months it would've been. Ten months it should've been. If you ever one day read this or have been reading the past anniversary statements I've made over the course of months, you may be wondering what ridiculous notions must be coursing through my head to acquire the will to write these things. I do it to commemorate. I do it to bring flowers to a grave for a love that would've been and should've been. This is a series of all the things I'll never admit to you, to anyone really. If I mentioned your name, a scowl of repugnance would erupt from whoever's face I tell. And that's ironic, isn't it? Some people know me so well that they had to know you, too. I bring you up sometimes. That's the first thing I'll never tell you. As you'd expect, it's in a mocking manner, but what you'd deem capricious is the underlying emotion that still lingers each time I reiterate your name. It hurts the way amputees have ghost-pain. You can still feel it even though it's not there. That's the second thing. I still feel it. I'm still angry and sad and nostalgic and I miss you. But that's not all. Third. I miss what you took from me. In leaving, you stole the good in me and left me to rot in my cold soul with only the bad, moralistic sector. I resorted to matters I never would've acknowledged had I not loved you. I gave you everything back--even your heart--and yet you still robbed me of all I had. Fourth. I have nothing left. Anyone who has known me for the past seven months can vouch for the vacancy that emanates through my body like a grave begging to be laid in. Fifth. There's nothing good in me, and I refuse to love again. Sixth. I still call you sometimes. Just to see if it goes to voicemail. Seventh. Yes, I still check to see if you have me blocked. Eight. I'm sorry, but I also can't be. You deserved what I did to because I didn't deserve what you did to me. Nine. I hate you. Ten. But that doesn't stop the fact that I'm still mourning. Ten months it would've been. Ten months it should've been.


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