This week is fear.
This week is fear encapsulated in a word because I know the demise of our relationship is coming. I know our impromptu trip to Bintan is not going to save us. I know we're doomed. You won't even hear me out, so here's why:
This week, my love for you finally showed signs of wear.
Instead of getting stronger and stronger, it's getting weaker and weaker. And you and I can deceive each other and pretend we can work on it, but it's not going to. It's too late.
All my posts have taken a dreary tone since your bullshit on Thursday night, where you chose to attend a common gathering over celebrating our 1st year. You talk shit about your cousin's boyfriend who didn't celebrate her birthday with her, and how you think he won't last.
What do you think of yourself then?
Do you see yourself as not just unromantic, but also as innately worthless and an impotent relationship investment, as I did at that point?
My mum knows it. She heard enough of it. She's told me to leave you or I'll keep suffering like this. And she's never wrong.
I don't see a future anymore.
Just a blazing end.
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