I’m tired, There’s no other way to put it without over complicating the idea. I am exhausted. Today was too much. Too much rebounding, ricocheting between crushing depression and jubilant happiness. Frustrating. Although that seems to be a common trend in my life right now; being frustrated. My insecurities rule me. They prevent me from talking to the people I love, from making the changes I need to make, from keeping a smile on my face. I want to be happy. It’s not too much to ask, at least I don’t think so. I am a good person, I try to do good deeds, I try to be the best I can be on any given day. But some days it just feels like all too much. Trying to find love after being fed all this Hollywood bullshit with perfect endings. What the fuck is that? Who the fuck does that happen to? I can tell you, with what I’m trying to come to terms with right now and what I’m going through as I write this, that sometimes love fucking hurts. Love fucking kills, kills pieces of you, kills pieces of your soul. This love is crushing me, suffocating me. I am so in love that I am being consumed by it. I don’t know what a day without feeling like this would be like. I’m not sure I want to know. As painful as this is, and it honestly is soul crushing some days, it’s also reassuring to know that I’m feeling this again. Although maybe my definition and perception of love are skewed, badly. I know that I think about her every day, I know that she gives me goosebumps and butterflies, and I know that she really does see through my bullshit. But is my self imposed belief that she could never love me stopping her from loving me? Is my idea of love wrong because in my mind I’ve associated it with pain? Love hurts, love is breathtaking, love has brought nations to their knees, and started wars. And sometimes love isn’t enough, and sometimes love isn’t returned. I could stand beside this girl and she would have no idea of what she was doing to me, how much I was suffering because of love, how the love I feel for her was slowly burning me up from the inside out. Has this made me a coward? People who are in the ‘know’ have asked if I’ve told her, and my response is always the same: “Why the fuck would I EVER do that?”. And honestly, why would I? So I can feel rejection once again? I’m a fucking expert, thank you very fucking much. So I can watch her slowly drift out of my life one more fucking time, for what would probably be the last time. No fucking thank you. As much as I’ve complained, as much as this is slowly killing me, as much pain as this is causing me, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need her in my life. She is a very stabilizing force. She balances my demons. The very demons she awoke. It’s a catch 22: have her in my life and slowly watch the wheels come off, or not have her and deal with the emptiness and ache her absence would surely cause.
In Which I Literally Had To Hold Back Tears While Writing
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