The last stroke of midnight dies.
...And I know someday I'm going to get over it.
Some day I'm going to be numb to this.
To everything.
But the key words are
some day. I can't tell when exactly that some day will be.
I really don't.
For all I know, I might just spend a large part of my life moping over it.
I don't want to spend any longer thinking about it.
I don't want to waste any more of my life committing to this.
I want to get over this pathetic state of mind I have right now.
I tell myself I have gotten over it. But then when I see it again.
Again.
That pang of... I don't know what.
Emptiness? Disappointment? Regret?
I hate you for making me feel this way.
It's not exactly your fault.
But I hate you all the same.
I hate this... this commitment which has caused me to feel so much. So much feelings which I could have lived happily without.
I hate you. I hate it.
