Today life is so good. I genuinely feel happy again. 

The melancholy is always lingering just below the surface - almost like gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe. 

I'm so good at hating myself. If I put even just an ounce of that energy into being a better person, I think maybe I can get good at liking myself too. 

What I can't see won't hurt me. I love you to the point where a glimpse completely shatters me. I can't fix myself if I'm always met with a reminder. It's never you; not ever your fault once. 

I learned something about me that is so interesting but also so tragic. I generally don't care about how others view me, however, there are a select few that really matter to me. If I don't get the sort of support from the ones so close to my heart, I get so crushed. 

I think I'm broken. I don't see love the way I used to see love. It seems I'm no longer able to absorb it the way I used to. I think I have healed but the scars changed me. I don't know, I think I miss how I used to see love. It's no longer pink; tinged, slightly yellowed. I hope it gets better. Whatever better looks like.