"I’m sorry that somehow, that somewhere along the way, I lost my voice. And now when I really need to speak up, when I really need to tell you something, I can’t. And I bite my tongue, and I dig my nails into my hands and I squeeze my eyes shut when the tears begin to well in them. And what is there to do except repeat the profound feeling of hate? But I don’t hate you, I love you and that is the problem. And you can accuse me of being cold, or cruel, or not caring, but I care. I care so much that every stupid thing you do makes my heart sick."
someone once said that what you want to say has already been said (which i of course take grave offense to) so if you can't say it better, let them say it for you. well, i could say it a million ways, but my words are tired. and my heart is tired. of everything that has broken within me and this life. so i sit. mull over the promises forgotten and i think, somewhere along the way, i lost my voice.
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