I need to change a different way of moving on.
I tried so hard to fake it, that it is actually causing more damage to me. I hate the fact that I am trying so hard to show the world that I am fine. Trying to prove the world that I am moving on just nicely. And trying so hard to prove that I have moved on.
But in true fact, I do not at all.
I need to stop destroying myself. I am trying, but I am not moving. It kills to know that I can’t move on. It kills to know that I am still mother-fucking bitter. I hate that I am no longer Denise Ong. That carefree, free-spirited, fun-loving girl. I have no longer understand myself. I have no longer know what I am doing, cause day in and out, everything is simply robotic.
And honestly, I have yet to have the fucking guts to tell mummy everything. How I feel, or what actually happened. And how her fucking daughter has changed. This shall be my little secret keep away til she finds out, that her daughter still cry herself to sleep, and her daughter is no longer happy.
Some one please save me from myself. I need a fucking closure.
I know at the end of the day, he doesn’t care that he destroy people.