Every hope i had just disappeared, and i've never felt more like a mess than now. And it hurts even more to have someone tell me that. Things are just floating about, i'm suddenly clueless about the meanings of so many things. there's an awful lot of mental wreckage that i would love to just clear off and start anew somewhere. Unrealistic, sadly.
I guess the past was where we were both living in. Expectations without true acceptance, denial after denial after denial...it took me an awful long time to finally love myself, but now there's just revulsion towards every ounce of me.
Does happiness come from contentment? If it is then perhaps i've set myself on a wild goose chase for it. It's easier said than done to drop every thing at a go and be content, i don't have that kind of courage to take myself the way i am now.