scattered.and.unfinished.

All four of the following thoughts were written on different days recently. My thoughts have been scattered and my writing has been unfinished: (1) I am, without a doubt, completely exhausted with the never-ending cycle I have found so familiar. That one where I chase the mere crumbs of affection from others who’ve proven to be incapable of loving me in return. (2) It’s been a week this time. I think this time is permanent though. I seem to bring out the worst in him and he drags out every possible insecurity in me. I’m sad about my loss. About our loss. I never feel as joyous and “found” as I do when I’m with him. His trips to visit me, no matter how frequent, were like Christmas Day every time. I’m hollowed out and torn. (3) It is an empty feeling. Hollow even. Like a part of me was removed with force and without warning. A freak accident perhaps? (4) A world wihtout her is unfathomable. Such a beautiful and magnetic creature... why has she never lived up to her potential. I've always wanted more for her than she seemed to want for herself.