I woke up this morning empty. Like all of my life was poured out onto the ground, and I realized there is very little there. I cried, again. I am so grateful that my anger never was taken out on Chloe. I love her so much, I would die if I had hurt her.

I miss Sam. Even now, I still love her. Its not fading, or dulling like I had hoped and prayed. Each day is another set of small cuts that makes me bleed from a thousand tiny wounds. I want to scream and rant, I want to cry and curl up into a ball. I want her back.

I honestly don't know what to do anymore. Taking each day as it comes and making limited plans for the future just seems so... pointless. I have little hope anymore. The small joys I do have seem stretched tight over the abyss of depression that lurks beneath the surface. I really need someone to talk to... but I don't know where to turn anymore. I seem to be pulling away from everyone, not on purpose, but just... I don't know anymore.

I'm so tired of having to make hard choices. I want them all to stop... I want to stop.

Do you even care anymore, love? Would knowing that help or hurt me?