Time after time.

I'm going to stop telling people that I 'don't even care anymore', because it's glaringly obvious that I still do.

Very much.
More than ever.

And most of all, I'm tired of running away. You know what they say, you can run but you sure can't hide. Well, I'm not running or hiding anymore. Dodging the bullet time and time again hasn't healed anything and everytime I think about it, it feels like a badly-patched band-aid is being ripped off my heart and the bleeding starts all over again. Slowly. Insidiously.

If I'd only been wiser at the start and let nature taken its course.
And so the scars speak for themselves.