When you've lost everything.
Everything but the alone.
Everything but the heartache.
And you're angry and tired all the time.
And if you stay there long enough.
In that loveless loneliness.
In that pain.
Then that is who you become.
People want to help.
People think you want help.
They think you want to heal.
They want to rid you of your pain.
They want you to know love again.
Or maybe no one even notices.
Maybe you're that good at hiding.
After all, you just keep smiling.
I'm fine. Just tired.
Except you're not fine.
But you can't open up.
You can't show your true self.
Then they'll want to help.
To fix it. To fix you.
And that scares you.
You have earned your new self.
Earned your loneliness, your pain.
And you couldn't bear to lose yourself.
Not again. Not a third time.
So you cling to it. Hard.
You embrace your pain.
After all, without your pain,
Who are you?
And how would you know you're alive?