Pessimist.

Just sitting there reading that article.
It reminded me of how much hope I had.
How much, even though I knew it wasn't possible. I made myself, believe that it would happen. I hoped and made myself believe over and over again. I fought for it, I fought for you.
No one mattered as much as you did. No one had what you had. That spark you had in your eyes, and even though you were as cold as an iceberg, you still filled me with hope, you filled me with something no one ever can ever define. It was almost as if gravity wasn't the one holding me down, it was you.
You were everything and now you've become nothing.
As if you fell from heaven and then you faded into the pits of hell.
And now I’m a pessimist, bringing out the worst in everything, because I'm afraid of being hurt again.
I used to do things without thinking and now I even over analyse things. Turning beautiful amazing things into filth. I habitually see the worst, and only the worst.
I wish you never existed, not now, not yet.