I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between. - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
This pointless routine of wandering between being happy and miserable finally caught up. Amidst the sleepless hibernation that I have been in these past few months, it is with sigh and relief that I may finally be on the verge of hating the things I loved most about you. I have come to realize that maybe I was never really into you, because beyond the random smiles and the comfortable nights that you handed me, you are nothing but a constant pain in my chest. And though it is inevitable to miss the things we once grew tired of, right now I am at a point where missing you is no longer enough to keep me from moving on. I guess I'll see you around.
