Another day, another penny

So again, I am waking up to loneliness. After a year, you'd think I was used to it. But I'm not. I feel it eating me alive, like mold. Corrupting what's left of the heart I have. It's probably why I'd prefer to die. 

I realize this morning that my longing for death has less to do with my loss and pain but more to do with this feeling of worthlessness I have. A feeling that only continues to grow the longer I breathe. The more days I awaken and I'm still consumed by loneliness. He can be satisfied by this. It's not his fault. It is my own. And so I count the days until I am able to leave them in peace, never to be bothered by me and my presence again. When he sees that I wasn't just talk. He can be happy/proud that I finally did something I said I would do.