Three Years and a Day
I made a promise.
I kind of like being alone. It's quiet. I don't like quiet though. But I've been really screwed up for three years and by now silence is what I'm used to. Sometimes (more like everyday) I really miss how loud my world was.
But it reminds me way too much.
So my world is kept within the confines of these tiny rooms. My inspiration is looked up and I can't even be called my name anymore. I'm not that person. I've forgotten how I used to talk.
I've forgotten what he looked like.
(Oh god NO…!)
My promise is kept.
It's probably unhealthy.