A deep, black, never ending void in my heart that will never heal.
I'm falling, and I'm too far down to be saved.
I laugh at my old quote; "Everything is better at the end."
How innocent I was, how blissfully unaware I was with how the world works.
In just one day, I went from happily skipping around the edge of the void, to cast down into the dark spiral that will ultimately end in the death of all that I once was.
That day was the 29th of July. The day I found out that God doesn't answer prayers.
The day I found out that not everything was better at the end: August 7th.
The day I found out that time does not heal: February 12th.
The day I found out that this journal is a massive trainwreck and a waste of time: february 17th.