oh dear. i haven't updated this site in many years. this is my graveyard. a lot has happened in my life since 2020. i loved someone and they ate up my entire life. and then they killed me (excuse the dramatics). he cheated on me and broke up with me a week or so ago. i don't know, i haven't exactly been keeping track of time since it happened. the days pass. i have no-one. that's why i'm writing here again. i don't know who i am. they were me. he wasn't a part of me, he became me. or, i suppose, i became his. i don't know who i am any more. i think i might kill myself soon. god knows i've been here before, so chances are i wont. but it's been a long time since i've felt so suicidal. a year and four months. since i met him, i have been happy. i wanted to die for so long, but being with him made life palatable. i built my future around him becuase it was the only way i could imagine it being worth living. if i were with him. but now i wont be, not ever, it's over.
so thats that. i have been listening to a lot of pierce the veil. spending days at a time back home cause i don't have the energy to buy food or cook or do washing. i have been drunk and/or high every waking moment of my life since it happened. this morning i woke up and periodically swigged vodka from the bottle while i prepared to drive to work. i handed in an assingment late two days ago, and i have another one due today that i haven't started, that i will not write and will not submit. i spilled cider on my carpet and just watched it seep into the fibres, no thoughts of cleaning it. i wasn't sad because i know my parents have more alcohol downstairs, that it is free and mine to take. i don't want to be alive. i don't want to remember. i'm getting psychiatric help for the first time in my life and yet i'm closer than ever to killing myself. i even know how i will do it, i am drafting notes in my head. i will do it in the middle of the night, text my flatmates and leave a sign on my bedroom door so they know. i only feel bad for my family. my friends will find new friends, better friends. most of them already have plenty. my ex will move on, have a sob story to tell future partners. a selfish part of me hopes he feels guilt, but the part that loves him (most all of me) prays he never even knows, for his sake. for my parents it will be the worst. i know they love me. i know it would be evil of me to do to them. it just depends if the world is gonna stay shitty enough for me to not care about hurting the ones i love as long as i can stop hurting myself.
i forgot how much i enjoyed wriitng this diary. i have missed you all, little pixels. i feel less lonely when i write here. hopefully i can keep this up.

take me back