There was a time.

The part of me that wishes to see the future is slowly, slowly, being rekindled. Like a dying ember on a dry coal that's been covered by a damp moss after rainy season. Dissociation is still strong, even after the whole disaster of me unsuccessfully killing myself again for the fourth time. So is my apathy. It's a chance-circle shooting game up in here, hour after hour.

I find myself zoning out, unable to return to my head.

I find myself unable to empathize with my friends, despite knowing I should if I want to keep them around. 

With dissociation, I can't find the controls in my head to flick on the empathy switch. I'm not in there. Nothing is. I'd find my body sitting upright on the bed, staring at a spot for hours. It heavily reminded me of highschool nights, minus the blank spots in my memories.

I'm a little okay now, with my broken heart. I'm healing. 
It's still a bitch most days, and I know I've totally become that edgy emo sad bitch after a break-up with all the angst posts on my IG and shit but, hey. It hurts. So. * shrug *
There is a lot to unload now that I'm finally able to let go, bit by bit. To remember everything I was given, and everything that got taken. Mya and Indah has forgiven me, and we are back in business with each other. I don't know if we'll ever be the same like we did because this fight is a little different than the rest, but so long as each of us are willing to play, it should be alright. At least I hope so.

I hate to be this selfish. 
I hate that I put them through this.
Most of all, I hate that I know for certain now that I can't survive without them.

Losing Beloved was devastating, yes. They broke my heart, even after they promised not to. But I could have survived it. Even if nobody else will ever again take the name Beloved (and Darling), I would have eventually survived the loss. Because I had everything I needed to survive it, until I didn't. Of course, it was by no means of any other than my own fault for being a coward.
I should have opened up to them, despite my doubts. I should have told them the truth, despite my fears. Even now that I have, I still face a little uncertainty over it. But it was not worth losing them.

It would feel like a blackmail. It would feel tainted. The fact that I couldn't survive without them is nothing short of a chain around their feet that would drag them to the bottom of the ocean with me, and that's not something you'd want for the people you love. It's toxic.

I'm toxic.

It took a lot for me to heal over my highschool trauma. And it feels like I'm back at square one.