Someone asked me the other day if my glass was half empty or half full. I was going to say it's empty, but that's not completely true. My life isn't void and I have my happy moments; but they usually just seem to disappear, or get worse. So, my glass is cracked. Yes, cracked. It gets filled up with happiness and hope, but it always ends up escaping my grasp. It always ends up empting out. It will never be full because it's always leaking. And one day, it will get thrown away, because no one wants a broken glass.

You don't need to know any of this. But the things I don't reveal are the things I hold closest and fear losing the most. I work overtime keeping them veiled and camouflaged. You don't need to know that I walk around all day fearing the things that make me happy, and that I have been doing that for my entire life.

Or maybe I've been thinking about how to say goodbye to you all week. Maybe I've been thinking about how to make those words come out of my mouth every second of the day since I made the decision to leave. Maybe saying goodbye to you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

I'm so confused...I mean, I want to let go...I want to let go of all this pain, but I'm afraid I'll go insane...he may come back, I have some hope, but with everything else, how can I cope. I want to let go...I'm going to let go, but if I wait and see, will he come back to me?