I made my world end.

The world crumbles beneath my feet... is this the end my dear? Everything does not seem as it is, the trees don't blow against the wind, the birds don't chirp at the call of morning, and the kiss of the sun no longer gives comfort. I am seeing things, I must be. Something must be wrong with me. The chill of aircon in the room makes it hard to stay warm, whoever put it on must have forgotten to set it to a time limit. If only I could bring myself to the remote placed on the side of the wall, and turn it off. But I must bare the agony of no control. This is the way it is, when you fuck up. You are forced to lay in a hospital cot for continuous monitoring, you see a psychologist, doctor, and nurse each day asking you the same questions - over and over again...

'How are you feeling? Do you have any tendencies? On a scale to 1-10 how bad does this pain feel?'

I really would love a second chance, but what I have done has made my life misery. You have the choice to control the things in your life, but when you make such a stupid decision that rids you of any authority in your life. What do you do? I am not sure anymore, I based my whole life around this one man and this is what happened. 

I really thought after you left that the world ended, that the trees did not blow against the wind no more, that the birds refused to chirp and bring their morning call, or that the sun no longer kissed my skin with warmth. But it was not you, it was me. You slowly pushed that knife into the mediastinum of my body, but I was the one who refused to pull it out. I made my world end.

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