why am i here? in nebraska. why am i here?
i swear i thought that if i just gritted my teeth through the rocky startup of a rushed realtionship, if i just smiled enough, if i said yes, smoked less, helped out. i thought i was being treated ok. better than usual. i thought
oh shit this is ok.
im fucking crawling out of my skin. here comes the loop. hang on, seatbelts please.
ive given all i have. really. the optimism, the shiny happiness, i was obviously trying so hard. it breaks my heart to read my own words these last few weeks, months, years. i can hear the desperation in them, i just wanted so much. i wanted so badly to not hurt anymore. i thought i was doing ok.
why am i sobbing here at this computer. why am i sinking inward. why does this hurt so bad.
ive lost people before. i prefer if they die i think. i can handle that grief. i cannot handle watching them separate so easily, like im wrapped in some crazy non stick coating. like furniture, i move from place to place. i try to get people to keep me. im comfy, i fit in small places, i can complement your space. but no one wants an old couch, no one wants a girl who cries all the time. no one wants baggage.
i work so hard. all the time. i give. and i come home to a trashed house, dishes, shit filled cat box. i cant find a place because of lingering issues following me from texas like a whining child. i cant do this. its just too much for me.
im so fucking tired.
the two 'he's.
he tells me to stop being so emotional. he turns his back, hes so done its not even funny.
and he tells me what im doing is wrong. this is the wrong way.
and he tells me nothing, even when i beg him.
it feels like im always begging.
and he says he ruins everything he touches, well.
i could teach him something about that.
i just want someone to tell me its ok for once.
i just want someone to fucking comfort me, goddamnit.
im taking care of people like a fucking mother, and it just reminds me that i cant give myself the one thing that will always love me unconditionally. ill never hear the voice of something that will never turn on me. i can only try and fill the space with work and broken men and im always the one left standing with a trash bag full of clothes and a stupid blank look on my face.
i came here, i made it, im sure somehow i am proud of myself.
but today, im a fucking mess. a fucking burning mess.
im gonna go curl up in my bathtub and try to make the world stop spinning.
then when the storm stops, maybe a few new marks later.
i get to clean and take care of things that arent mine.
i get to try not to fail my classes.
ill get by.
i hope. i guess right now i dont really give a shit. but i have to try, i think.