Well… I know I haven’t been on in a while, but I thought I should come on today because I need to rant a lot. So here goes…..
It’s been a long time since I felt like this. Especially what happened. I can’t even explain this feeling. I feel happy and depressed at the same time. Yes I’m trusted with this information, but it kills me every time I hear more. She means the world to me, so I take it all in for her. For those few minutes, I don’t feel sad because I get to hear her voice. Later on though, it hits me that I’m alone. All I want is someone to cuddle me. I want to feel their warmth and feel their heartbeat. I went them close to me so I can feel whole. I want to lay there and forget about everything but us. I want that all back. Nothing more. But still everyone gets more than me. I don’t even get flirted with anymore. I stay in my little shell because I am so emotionally fucked. In fact, it hurts more now because it’s the two year anniversary of when everything went to shit. So all of this jumbled together caused me to retract way back. My spirit has officially been broken. I never thought it would happen again. I don’t know why. I just did. I blame it on the fact that I will never feel happiness again. I know for a fact that if I don’t marry her, something went horribly wrong somewhere down the line. But I know I won’t. It can never happen. It was never meant to be. So I will graduate, get a job, become rich, grow old, and die alone. More money because I will have no one to support but myself. I just one day want to get that warm butterfly feeling again, but not just me. I want it to be mutual. I want to make someone get butterflies. But that would imply that I could make someone exceedingly happy. I’m only funny. Otherwise, I’m a big ball of depression. No one wants me. I’m just. Me. And I’m not good enough for anyone. I’ve tried to get out into the world. Every time I do, I fall flat on my face. Then I relapse. Then I wallow and try again. I’m done trying. If love wants me, love can come get me on its own. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of dying. No more lies. I’m putting my thoughts into words. I want the world to see how I feel. Because I’m bleeding and oh does the blood feel good. I’m not ashamed. I’m not afraid. I. Am. Me. Nothing can change me. No one can have me. I’m a volatile ball of emotions that if provoked enough will lash out in any number of directions. If I have to walk alone, I will. I don’t want to, but I can handle it. It’s amazing what scars, both physical and mental, can do to a man. Those scars made me who I am, and because of it I can steer people away from my mistakes. I don’t want anyone to become me or feel what I feel. Death would be too easy of a way out. Maybe that’s why I can’t die. Just one more time. One more cuddle under the stars. One more night. Just like old times. I just. I needed to type out all this. I needed to get it all out. Don’t be hurt. Don’t feel for me. Don’t change anything. Everything will be the same. Except this isn’t in my head anymore.