I am so worried about you. All the god damn time. Then I go from being worried about you to convincing myself that you are better off without me. That your life is better without me in it. I can’t choose and I can’t decide which one I would rather. I think I may be projecting what I feel onto your body. I do not see what is really you. I see that I am hurting being away from you and hoping you feel the same way. I am missing you like crazy. You probably don’t think about it at all in your day, but you are always on my mind. I am happy right now. I don’t want you to think that I’m not. I really am enjoying myself. I just think about you a lot. I think about you every time I dance and I wish you were behind me with your hands on my waste. I think about you every time I lay in bed and wish your legs were tangled in mine. I think about you when its quiet and wish the silence was filled with your voice. It is like my pillow is made of you and as soon as my head hits it you enter my dreams. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. No matter how much I enjoy myself, you are always there. In the back of my mind. Reminding me of what I am missing. As much as I wish you felt the same way, I hope you aren’t hurting like me. I hope your heart doesn’t ache every time you think about our last night together. As much as I want to be the one, I hope you find someone to fill you heart with joy and love and that reminds you every day how much your worth. You deserve so much and I hope, even if it isn’t me, that you find that.
I have spent a very long time trying to pull myself out of that dark corner of my mind. Years of dipping my feet into the water as the shadows entangle themselves around my ankles barely able to resist the temptation to pull me in. And sometimes there was no resistance. Some days I was pulled into the deep end with no strength to fight back. But as the tide began to lower, I found the ability to pull myself out of the shallow. for a little while, the dark pool had dried up. there was no more lake of tainted water. Just the stains left on the empty pit. It was gone and my mind was left peaceful. Today, It overflowed. the pool filled back up faster and darker than ever. This time I didn’t have to go to the water, it came to me. Its hunger reached for me and yanked me to the bottom. My arms and legs flailing. My lungs pounding, begging for someone to pull me out, but no one can see. No one can see the chains clasped around my ankles, the ropes around my wrists, causing them to bleed. No one can see the blood-soaked sleeves of my shirt, the water pouring into my lungs. They don’t see anything because the shadow forces my smile. My smile is a cloak hiding my pain from the outer world. I have tried everything I have ever know to escape from this hell, but its hold is stronger than it has ever been. I can no longer breath. My lungs are being flooded with the darkness from that corner of my mind. I am slowly, painfully drowning in my own thoughts, my own fear. I was a fool to think I could ever escape this. I was a fool to think the shadows wouldn’t someday take over my entire mind, my entire body. My blood is polluted with the corrupt emotions my mind is feeding me. My blood is begging to be spilled. Begging to be released from my body. I am begging to be released. I am afraid where this might end.
I drink in the world. Moment by moment I soak it all in through the wounds it has given me. I see the world like a passer by sees someone else’s life. I am always looking in. I see the pain. I see the happiness. I see the anger in every one else. I sit on the sidelines to watch how their life plays out. It could be me avoiding my own stage, but I would rather watch someone else’s success than my own. I would rather listen to their voices than have one of my own. A long time ago, mine was stolen. Stolen by the ones that caught my words as they crossed the threshold of my lips into the frozen air. They held them in their palms as they decided whether to warp them to their benefit or to crush them into nothing more iportant than the dust settling on your picture frame. You have given me a reason not to be a reason. I only gave you the most beautiful words that my mouth could form in hopes that they would heal the wounds on your skin. The wounds that only turned out to be a reflection of my own. You projected my pain onto your body because you knew I could not avoid the attempt to heal. I gave myself, all of myself, away. To the many that could not fill themselves. Now I am left with the draining effects. Their is no more love to distribute nor feelings to play host for an unwelcome heart. I gave you mine to be an additional link on the chains binding yours together. By the time I realized that I was only giving you the armor to shield yourself you had already begun to scavenge through my body’s foundation brick by brick. I gave myself to you and you only kept taking.
All I wanted was to be wanted. To feel like I was important to someone. And I still do, but I am comfortable with myself to not need someone’s attention to function. I was wallowing in my self-pity and I thought the only way to not be lonely was for people to pay attention to me, and trust me, I have manipulated myself to be able to get exactly that, but I am finally pulling myself out of that dark hole of despair. The best part is that as soon as I can finally do that for myself, someone decides to prohibit my progression. I wanted you to need me and you didn’t, but as soon as I can move on, you say you need me. If your goal wasn’t to drag me right back into that wretched confinement you are doing a horrendous job of showing it. It feels like every time I am ready to walk away you pull me back and I am forced to start from the beginning all over again. I am exhausted with your endless games and I would just like to take a rest. Stop using me then throwing me away. I know after this you are going to push me back to the side like you always have and I am going to wait there patiently until I am just ready to fix myself. Which will be conveniently right before you “need” me again. I am so over being used. Like I said before, I will not stress my life to be a crutch for yours.
I have been reading a lot lately. It is always a bad idea. You see, when I read books I get it this terrible mood that leads to me sinking back into that endless abyss. Books are supposed to be an escape right? Well, that is what it is for me, but only for a little while. I become so invested in the story. I feel everything the character is feeling as if I am them as if I am experiencing everything they are. I become so invested that I cannot think of anything else. My mind can only focus on the story and the emotions of this book. While I am reading the book, it isn’t such a bad thing, but when the book ends so do I. I am left empty because the book drained me of all feeling. I don’t think it would be so bad but I have realized that I feel. I feel so hard and with everything I have. I hurt myself because I feel everything so damn much. I am drained of everything I am and it is kept in little places of my life that I can never reach. I think that is the biggest thing people do not understand about me so they don’t know how to treat me. That is why am always the one that ends up hurt in the end.