“In history we talk about what happened. In art we talk about what might have happened. All encompassing love might not exist in real life, but art says it might exist.” Aleksandr Sokurov.

I miss the things I was never there for.

What do you want to know?.

Is it always the same things?

There has to be something inside me stronger than the desire for love.

Basic bitch.

I can never figure out if I’m under insane unhappiness and stress that would drive anyone to the brink or that my life is relatively cushy with low responsibility and extreme privilege and it’s only my poor mental health making favourable conditions seem horrendously oppressive.

Do you?

I loved you as much as I hated myself. Could I have hated myself more.

It must be some kind of pathology to be continually motivated to direct love to people who don’t want it and aren’t able to return it.

Always remember it’s your love that makes someone special, not the person themselves.

Someone’s love is only as good as they are.

I never trusted that anyone could love me. I only trusted that I could love them.

A measure of how much you’ve been hurt in your past is your current capacity for joy.

I wanted some of your fear of death to rub off on me, as if fear of death meant love of life.

I don’t know what’s sadder. When the heart dies or when it hasn’t died at all.

For once I want to be dumbfounded by reality and not disassociating through escapist fantasies.

That was me thinking the best of you. Thinking you were a person of depth, integrity. That your actions to the contrary were only indicative of wounding that my faith in you and patience could overcome.

I loved you enough that I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you said you loved me.

Thing is, you made my perfectly normal reactions to your gaslighting and inconsistency and callousness some kind of problem of codependency or lack of self worth on my part. You’re so clever and dangerous that way.

What have I done purely out of love and not fear, obligation, routine, attachment or wanting the other person to love me back? Do these distinctions even matter?.