I thought you cared.
I suppose that I hold on to it because of memories, because it was a better time. It was a time when I had a goal, when my parents were still together, and when life was still somehow enjoyable, not just a succession of days going on one after the other. Maybe it made me happy, because I had the illusion that things were going well, because on the surface I wasn't so alone. On the surface only.
Because I feel so fucking alone all the time. I cry for a soul that would understand me, and everytime my call is unanswered. I never fit in the mold, I never match the qualification. I'm the unwanted, the misfit. I'm the one that people never pick out. You even left me when I needed you the most, as if I didn't deserve to be looked after.
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