I woke up like there's no blood in my hands. But I don't think I feel I even slept at all. Last night felt like a dreamless sleep. And now I come to the office like I'm typing with hands that don't feel it's there.

It's funny how I wasn't emotional last night. I should have been, but I wasn't for some reason. I could say a thousand words to everything that was said to me but I'll just prolong a fruitless debate.

I am selfish I am wrong
I am right I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along

No, I will not grieve because I know I did my best. No, I won't be listening to sad songs because I know I have fought well. No, I will not be drinking beers til the wee hours in the morning because I know I was true to myself.

Thanks anyway for letting me know. Thanks because I just became better than I already am. But someday, I fervently hope someday, that I see you become better too.

And good God, I wish that little 'reply to you' thingie wasn't there for everyone to see. It'll be a matter of time before everybody else figures it out and I'll feel even more fucking shitty than I already am. But if it's something that will make things better, then it's something I'll gladly bear.