twenty-two

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CAMILA'S POV

Dirty tissues, trust issues

My mind wanders the worst when I'm laying in bed, staring at the ceiling like this, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper with my lyrics and music notes on them. The aggravation with lack of inspiration has officially exhausted the faith I had in this album.

I can't help but be afraid of the world now. To be afraid of how underwhelmed the fans might be, and afraid to give my all away again. The people that I trusted and loved the most were no longer there to protect me or walk with me when life began to get hard.
In fact, along with this new found fear I now I despised one of my exes while I dreamed of the day the other would come back. Selfishly, I keep hoping that she'll only come back for me.

Time stands still being alone so often. All I do lately is lay in bed and watch the sun rise and set. It's hard to pass the time, but I've slowly found other alternatives to keep myself moving. Whether it be writing to get my heart out on paper, or listening to deep emotional music to inspire myself into a different mood. I'm still in bed alone.

Glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you

Depression isn't only affecting me. It's affecting the cheater who lives upstairs. She's been drinking different brown liquors straight out of a new bottle almost every night to even get a couple hours of sleep. Her destruction has only caused me to worry more.

Lauren did very well at hiding it at first, but bottles began to pile up in the trash every night. Before I saw them, it was as if I was in the middle of a very calm ocean. Then in a flash, dark clouds begin to cover the sky over me and I try to swim to shore but a forty food wave quickly washes over me, pushing my body down into the deep blue. The pressure starts in my head and I try to claw my way to the surface, but it's too late. I need air and I can't get it. Mostly because that air is toxic. Almost as toxic as the water burning my lungs.

I'm forcing myself away from the toxic air I need. And the air I need is Lauren. I'm killing myself emotionally while I watch her literally die in front of me. The loyalty I have for her is undeniable, but I'm doing everything I can to stay far away from her. It almost seems as if there's a magnetic force pulling me to her and I'm using all my strength to fight the constant feeling that aches in my heart every time I see her.

Lonely pillows in a stranger's' bed

While she's numbed herself with alcohol, I've numbed myself with people. Trying to find someone that fits me as well as Y/N and Lauren did. Someone who connects to my body and mind in that same way.

No one does.

I yearn for that feeling of adventure and unpredictability. I want passion and romance, but everyone is the same.

When someone touches my skin, I don't get excited or heated. People who want to fuck me do only that. They'll spend only minutes on my body. I'm chasing a high that I'll never get, and I end up just as disappointed as I was before I decided to let someone spend a night with me.

Little voices in my head

The depression only gets worse. I never believed that I would be one of those people who sit around for an eternity and cry over someone else. I always said that it would never be the end of the world to be single, and it's not, but I'm missing all the love and affection. I miss being able to tell someone every little thing that happened within my day and know that the person who's listening will always be there to listen. No matter how ridiculous or dramatic.

Music relieves the lonely thoughts, but it's never the same when you're broken-hearted. Half the songs I've written for the studio are dark and depressing. The other half are slow love ballads. I've wanted to write a radio bop, something to make people want to get up and dance, but I've lost a lot of inspiration during all of this chaos.

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 04, 2020 ⏰

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