a mess he don’t want to clean up

i remember when i was younger. i was so confident and carefree before the shit hit the fan that it’s hard to comprehend that i’m the same person i was then. i’ve cut ties with everyone who ever befriended me, everyone who gained even a modicum of my trust. it’s what i do. it is what i excel at. i used to want to build bridges, now i burn them. i don’t know if it is ptsd or the depression or just plain ole anxiety that they will hurt me. i just miss having friends.

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