I can pretend. It’s one of my better skills. I can shove away how I actually feel and make shit up for myself that’s so believable I can delude myself into thinking it’s real. So it’s almost unsurprising that I still feel the same as I did before.
I love you. I really do. It aches me to think of how things are. But tbh, I need to grow the fuck up and just accept things. Because it’s far too late to cause anymore damage.