March 18th, Year 22

Recently, I met a man named Matthew, whom I do not plan on pursuing. It isn’t wise, and it isn’t desired. The lack of motivation does not come from a shortage of affection. On the contrary. I care for him deeply. Yet, I can say with absolute confidence that we are never to be. I no longer trust those my heart wants. I have been passed along, from man to man, obeying every command. I smoked cigarettes, because it was easy to cry behind a grey cloud. I stayed behind the window, looking at the show before me. My limbs were without movement, unless manipulated. I heard of rebellions, and longed to be a participant. I was dedicated to past lovers, but dedication is not truly love. I was bound. This is not enough anymore.

I do not need someone to plan for the apocalypse with me. My bleeding heart is mine alone. I will not chase what begs to be left alone anymore. I will keep my distance, in order to expand

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March 18th, Year 22

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