I write songs, not tragedies

Chapter 10: Restart

I went home and immediately headed to take another bath, making sure to wash all his c*m out of me.

I can't walk properly because of him. Staring at myself in the mirror, I really can't tell which are the bruises from hickes.

I exhausted. I took my antidepressant pill prescripted by my therapist then slept all day, all night.

I woke up before my alarm again. It's been 3 weeks since that incident. I still feel numb about everything.

These past few weeks feels like I'm just breathing and not living anymore. I really didn't know what to do.

But I remebered something that made me happy. Composing and singing. I can still remember what it felt like performing with my friends in a crowd of people. It still feels amazing.

After all my realization, I've made up my mind to pass a resignation letter. I will go back to what's making me feel alive. Go back to doing what I love, my passion.

I don't want to keep living like this. I want to do it my way. This time I won't back down like I did before. I don't want to feel this emptiness, this void in my heart.