Chapter Fourteen

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There is no word that ever has been invented by humankind to describe how you feel when you're depressed. Because honestly, it is just not human.

-this is not what you are supposed to feel like.

Maybe there are people too busy searching for love for themselves, that they are unable to give it to other people.

-because if they did, there wouldn't be enough for themselves.

It's a circle. Simple as that. I know my way into sadness, always had. I know my way into anger. I know my way into isolation. I know my way into pain. I know my way into depression.

I don't know my way into laughter. I don't know my way into hope. I don't know my way into faith. I don't know my way into happiness.

So I go back to what I know.

It's a circle. Simple as that.

-darkness.

I am still searching for a place. A place where I can be me.

But I believe I cannot find it until I found myself; until I got to know me.

-when am I going to find myself?

I really don't want you to become a thought in my mind.

I really need you physically here by my side.

-where are you?

Someone turned down the light. And all of a sudden you were out of sight. I search for places that remind me of a boy who is now written in pages.

- poetry boy.

We were a book in the making. We were story after story. We became chapter after chapter. Until one day you decided that our book wasn't worth to be finished.

-unwritten.

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