existence failed_*

I've depended too much on somebody for all the love and care. Somebody to talk to, to share the most random thought, to talk about almost anything under the sun. That somebody cannot be replaced; I can find no other to share the deepest of my life. Now that he's almost gone, the foundation on which I depend on daily crumbles away. What's left is wreckage, no one can salvage.
There isn’t anyone else to talk to talk to, no one close enough. And even if there was someone, it’d be terribly awkward. I’ve lost something I don’t think I’ll ever find again.
I’m not real. No one is. Pain is a machine generated emotion to toy with my mechanical heart. Someone else is watching this. He’s probably having fun seeing someone terribly hurt. Everyone is fake, all machines, all programmed. Tears are fake, the pain is fake, and the love is fake. We only exist when we sleep, that’s when everything comes alive .
I don’t exist. Anymore.
I don’t know you anymore and i don’t know anyone else around me.