hate

it's just beginning to dawn on me...what a detestable person i really am.
and this isn't an indulgent self-loathing exercise. believe me.
more and more people I've cared about deeply, fussed over, trusted, been proud of, criticized, loved, choose to make it clear that they hate me. I'm that something they can do without.

and it's a lot for one person to deal with.

p.s.: i have a job. boring, but it might pay well.

hurt

I wish for the strength to gather up everything I've ever invested, and walk away.
quietly, unceremoniously, like I was never there.

I want to be able to find a way around this. I want to give myself a chance to get used to it. I want to last long enough for it to lose its sting. like it never happened.

till then, I wish for the strength to survive this. every day I try to reason it away. it's not a loss. I never had you.

loss

do you ever get the feeling that some things are too large, too stupendous for you to accept, or even register?
maybe when it does sink in, i'll be able to cry.
right now, it's this dead weight i cannot shed, a mass of emotion that i don't know what to do with, that i can neither escape, nor express.
i don't know whether to love them for trying to protect something they believed to be fragile, or hate them for depriving me of what i deserved to know.

grief is not something i'm quite used to

crisis

there's no way i'm ever going to make it.
there isn't enough time.

i feel like i'm not doing enough, there's people out there, making decisions...making changes.
people almost exactly like me...but i can't even make up my mind.

this isn't the time, or the place. it's all wrong.
what if i'm not ready to let go of these things, not ready to move on...then again, what if i never move on at all? what if this is all there is to it?
if i'm not ready now, maybe i'll never be.

security is not a good thing. it makes you want to let go. to just slow down and take it easy. but that way, there won't be any perfection, just me.

and that's not good enough.

someday, I'll become them.
someday I'll crush the air out of someone else's lungs with my carefully cultivated misery.

my assorted pains, sealed away in jars...allowed to decay until they're fetid enough to suffocate me.