I am engulfed in my own emotion right now. Unexplainably and painfully consumed. 
Bon Iver's poetic sorrow and despair is the only thing that's connecting with me. Not that I am living a life of sorrow and despair... not at all in actuality, but my heart is heavy. It's bleeding. It's ready to be removed from my sleeve and placed back into it's protective case of brittle ribs.
    Skinny love... I posted the lyrics right before this. "So who the hell was I?" is what has been running through my head repeatedly. It's a question I want to seriously yell in the face of the wizard behind the curtain of my defeat. I have come to the realization that I am just another her. Another routine, the same lines, the same emotions spat in my face without a hint of hesitation. Convincing? Yes. Very. True? I'd like to know the same...
    So where does this leave one. How do you mend the wounds and heal the scars of an accident that everyone walked away from but you? I'm agonizing over this stupid unknown. What was I? What does this make me? Did I really, seriously allow myself to love a lie?
       Hmmm.... with us emotion ran so high. The emotion made me high.... It was a very emotional high. A high I'm withdrawing from, and time is the only rehab.
     One could probably accuse me of being dramatic right now.... but for once; It's completely legit. 

"so who the hell was I?"

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime- and falling in at night." ~Edna St. Vincent Millay

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