She left on Sunday, and he died on Monday

I really haven't had the energy to write anything here for quite som time now, but I guess that there's no one who really cares to read this either, but I'm hanging on to my theory about how writing things down makes them easier to handle.
So, if this is to make myself feel better, why don't I have the curage to write what I really want to?
I'm to afraid that I might hurt someone
Words are like weapons - the wound sometimes
But why can't I write what ever I want when everybode else is writing about everything on their blogs? Sometimes I wish that I cared more about myself than others.

Either way, I feel empty and abandoned. As if there were a major hole in my chest which nothing could ever fill. So I guess it was all just a matter of time before these feelings would come back, but this time I've actually managed to hold on to that smile for a pretty long time.

It feels as if you no longer want to be with me, you feel furter away than ever and I'm afraid that I'm only bothering you with my presence.
I'm not prepared to give this up, to give you up, but sometimes it feels like that is what you want. You make me question so many things about myself - it feels like I'm not good enough for you. I know that I'm not, but I never thought you'd realize that this quickly.
I am so afraid to ask you some things. I'm pretty sure that the truth could kill me in just a matter of seconds, but living a lie has never worked out.
I'm sorry if this is just a huge misunderstanding from my side, and don't you think for a moment that I don't love you. I do love you Sid, I really do but I still got to ask you
Are you thinking of leaving me?

I've gone too far I know.
I'll be in touch.