My past is riddled with unfortunate events laced with awkward confrontations and brutal honesty.
My past isn’t what scares me.
To me, the future is terrifying.
The past is done.
Nothing can be changed.
Nothing can be altered.
The future is this constantly shifting scope of what I want and what I need.
It is never constant.
Any hint of stability is simply delusion attempting to comfort an already racing mind.
I don’t want to be alone.
I don’t want to live without love.
I can’t tell if my complete and utter indifference to love is a delusion or is fact.
Nothing I think or know about myself is fact.
Facts are constant.
I am not.