the days like 11sept I wrote you “unblock me and let’s start to talk again like adult person”. Maybe it’s my usual english that sucks like everytime I’m emotional. I’ve spent whole night crying. I woke up crying. I’m a mess. I can’t deal anymore with this empty dark thing into my chest.
“Deal with that as an adult.”
Adult talks. Not hide themself. Like adult deal on what they did. Not say “I said you, I warn you”. People in feelings have random reaction. It’s like biology, it isn’t a fucking accenture schedule you can face/block/whatever.
I told you I wasn’t a surplus, you treat me like that.
It wasn’t my idea, an image only in my head as you said.
And now you don’t know how much struggle into. A lot. Last night I saw my mum completely struggling with how I stay. She doesn’t know what to do. She can’t do anything. Maybe praying you like I’m doing?
I need you as a friend. Just writing that and knowing that you surely will read that a bit calm me down. I started crying, now I’m not. Christ, I have to write all down here. I wouldn’t. But better that you saying that I’m disturbing you.
Ti voglio ancora bene. But only that. Thinking physically of you make me vomit.