Dear journal,
Every day is simply a memory, yesterday seems so long ago, but it's really only hours ago.
But hours can be a long time, if you are waiting for something. It always takes longer.
I'm waiting for life. A better life. If I decided to get better, and someone asked me the next day when I stopped hurting myself, I could honestly say "a long time ago." time is just like that, I guess...
What would it be like to honestly be "fine"? I wonder if it would be nice, not to feel all the hurt. I wish I could just erase it from memory, and never remember it again.
Maybe I could smile without that little voice in the back of my head asking me "are you really smiling because your happy? Or because it relieves everyone else and its just what they want to see..."
Gosh, I hate that voice..
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