It's been a week since I saw him. I still cry for hours everyday. I started to PRAY (and I'm far from religious) that he forgive me for being sick and give me another chance at being nicer. I miss everything. 

I'd rather be arguing with him than being alone in this bed. 

I was completely naked in front of him. I told him everything and he saw me. When he looked at me, I knew he was looking straight at the real me. I used to run my fingers on him for hours trying to repair the damage i did. 

It's so hard to accept it's over when you're in love with someone. People think I'm crazy for moving so fast with him but to me it was so so so real and he was so so so inviting. He kept telling me he wanted to protect me, that I was his baby... I can't believe heartbreak happens to people who are in love. 

I'd give everything to go back home. 

I feel like I can't continue my life without the routine we had. It's so hard to be thrown out. Everything is so different now... I just started to trust it was okay for me to be there. Things were coming into place. 

These days, I wake up and see the whiteness of my wall and instantly, i know I'm not home. The first seconds after I open my eyes are so painful. 

It's like I'm always on this shaky boat and i finally find an anchor. Someone strong. Who has solid foundations but can't share with me because I'm literally going to break the anchor in half. 

I just can't get out of this feeling of unfairness. I didn't choose to have BPD. I don't want a caretaker. I just wanted to be loved. 

I'm too fucking selfish for wanting love. I live to be a lover but I'm fucking poison. What's even the point to continue? I tried to be better but it wasn't enough to make him stay. 

Nobody can love me whole without suffocating...