can't even

i used to think i'd be part of the 27 club - a group of people that died at the age of 27. and to an extent, it may be true, but not in the way i had hoped it. the moment a new life has started growing inside of her, that's when i started dying inside.

being with her doesn't fill me with life anymore. i feel disconnected, i feel misunderstood, i feel miserable... while i may be the kind of person that will indulge in self-hatred, i used to have enough self-compassion to have never wished to not be myself anymore. but that's where i am right now. i don't want to physically be me anymore.

but i won't walk out, i have a strong enough sense of duty to keep being there for the kid. cause essentially my life is over. what's the point.

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