Be Gentle With Yourself

Who provided me the bricks I built this fortress with? Who is the architect of this bastille around me, with no moat to be seen. Spending months yearning for an escape route, begging to understand how it’s come to this. When did I become cold? When did I become so hard to know? How did I become the person that gets nauseous seeing engagement pictures, feeling bitter towards those that have found love? Mocking the basic pictures of a beautiful hand that could never be mine, due to the bloody stumps that lie at the end of my fingers. Was it you, first love? The first guy that made my heart jump. The one that first made me believe that true love existed in soft rock and mayday parade lyrics. The one that made my hands sweaty, and that created the story of ever after in my head. Who opened this world of "love" to me. The one that in the daylight stood by my side when I first learned what breaking is, and who viciously reminded me that ITS NOT YOUR FAULT. And the same one th