I never thought I would live this long. I always thought a freak accident would take my life and I have known that feeling since about 12.
Now as selfish as it sounds, I wish upon it. I crave it. The last season finale that leaves everyone on a cliff hanger.
I don’t necessarily want the cowards way out as some call it. But at the same time when does the pain stop?
Endless nights of trying to be. Trying to be better, trying everything to get to a point of happiness.
Being sexually abused myself, that shit never goes away.
Especially when it happened for years by my grandfather without anyone knowing.
It wears on me.
I’m no john snow
I’m no mother of dragons
I’m no Sansa or Aria
I’m no Hannah, Shoash, jessa.
I’m no Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Rick or Daryl
I’m not even a fucking Joffrey
I’m me. And I hate me
With a passion I hate me
I hate that I can hate myself so much
I want it all to end

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