Last week was such a horrible week, I thought about dying a lot. Not that I want to, it just seems.. promising. Fortunately or unfortunately, I was not depressed enough to put a blade on my skin, not when Ashley is coming. I needed to grow stronger, so I braved my week.
I hate how everything turned within a few weeks. I haven't spoken to my mum in a month, it's by far the longest silent treatment we ever had. I told her I loved her. She didn't acknowledge, let alone reply. It hurts.
I can run my hands through H's hair and I see no future, I hold his hands only to see another woman's face. And that hurts. He says its only temporary, and when I become more positive, I will see the light again. I doubted so, but he insisted on it anyway.
It has been too destructive for me to take, and I only wish for baby Ashley to be here, so I can devote myself to my one true love.
It haven't been good for awhile, can't you see?