Little voices. Major pain.

I wish I could shut them off, dull them down, drown them out to just a low hum. The voices. The doubts. The memories. Words spoken.  The silences. Mourning all the things that will never be, all the perfect moments: I don't want these in my head. There is no escape. Music- the only method of forgetting has become a source of remembrance. I will never be the same. Nothing at all could ever be. For better or for worse.  These voices tell me I'm fading away. They erase the marks I make on the world and convince me I can just back away slowly. It's days like these that I miss her the most. Mad that she left... me here. Remembering the last time I saw her, the promise made- The promise I broke. The 7 year promise she broke. I don't toss blame. Just try to squish sense out of places where there isn't any.

I do this a lot. It never ends. Its the same conversation every single time. One sided. Empty. Pointless.