What is pain?
Is it the feeling of inadequacy?
The feeling of loss?
The feeling of rejection?
Or knowing that there is someone out there who you really connect with, but who you may never get to call your own?
Is it the many times of confessing your feelings, wearing your heart on your sleeves only for it to be thrown onto the ground and trampled?
Is it the moment when you realize that you sabotage every chance you have at happiness?
Or is it the moment between hating yourself and everyone else?
Is it loneliness or is it emptiness?
It is the moments when you watch the wisps of cigarette smoke rise and dissipate into the air?
Or is it the moment of when blood is drawn from your wrists?
I don’t know what the answer is anymore.