Broken and battered. Trying to pull myself out of this slump, this depression. Feeling so much anger, hatred and a thousand and one unnamable emotions towards the people who stole my innocence. Shame in myself over crying over spilled milk, surprised that the actions of others still have the ability to affect me.
We romanticize the past. We romanticize the fun moments, the amazing experiences and the people we’ve experienced those experiences with without really focusing on the dark spots of the past.