I'm ok.

I'm really ok.

I'm more than ok.

That's all that I've learnt to tell myself.

Those words have been repetitive in my life since he walked out those doors. I know I shouldn't feel this way when our relationship was nothing but toxic venom to me. But could you truly tell people that you didn't love the man that you've been with since you were sixteen?

I didn't think so.

It's not that I'm hurt that he's gone. It's his presence thats killing me day in and day out.

When you're so used to someone being around you twenty four seven, attached to you wherever you go. Then one day they just disappear out of thin air. Things like that get to you. And it gets you hard.

So much that I've been slipping in and out of this depressive episode that I haven't done anything in weeks.

It kills me that he isn't around anymore. But like I said, I'm ok. 

And I'll always be just ok.

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You know the thing that happens to druggies when they're deprived of thier substiance? The one and only thing that has kept them alive and going for all of these years? 

I'm feeling that right about now. But times a billion.

The agony, the deprevation, the uncontrollable emotions and the monstrous screaming.

I've become one of them. 

My drug was taken away from me and now I've got nothing to live for. Nothing to look forward to in life anymore.

I'm driving my ownself