stone cold sober.

today, i feel everything. i am thoroughly exhausted by the strain of caring too much, too often, and i feel stretched out too thin. i am breaking apart and i feel dissatisfied, disappointed, disillusioned. i feel alone, ugly, incapable, useless, and unloved. i feel utterly empty. completely depleted.

as with all my relationships, the pressure of expectations never fails to bring anything good to it's knees. this is true of the relationship i have with myself. i have lost respect, and gained only scorn for what i can only say is a shadow of my former self. i realize today that after everything that has happened since the beginning of last year, i am devoid of hope. i do not think i deserve better anymore. i do not love me anymore, and today i realize this.

to whoever is out there reading this, it may sound like something out of a suicide letter, or something equally depressing that, i don't know, maybe secondhand serenade could be responsible for. excuse this uncharacteristic surge of sadness that envelops me today, because unlike the rest, i find no comfort in anything.

there is no intention to induce guilt, pity, or even concern here. this is not a cry for help, nor is it a plea for companionship in my misery (yes, misery.), only indulgence in allowing myself to mark this day so i will remember the way this feels for the rest of my life. i do not like this, and for the sake of never ever having to feel like this again, i will be better.

with every sob that inevitably makes me choke a little, i convince myself that i am letting go. i do not know if this is true, but i suppose in some small way it makes me feel better. i don't know where all this is coming from but it feels like taking a breath for the first time. feel i liberated, but i honestly don't know what from. maybe now i can move forward, even without knowing what i'm leaving behind. just one of those days, maybe.

today, i feel everything.

people.

i find that people have a hard time believing how socially retarded i am. perhaps it's the bluntness of my words, or the eloquence of my speech that leads them to believe that i just don't care what people think of me. while that is also true, the fact that all this stems from my awkwardness as a child (and this has grown with me) cannot be denied.

sometimes i tell people that i do not do well with expression of emotions, and they say that it's clearly a lie. to them i say, you clearly don't know me too well. tis' true that i have never had a problem expressing my views and voicing my opinions about things going on around me, but it has always been difficult to internalize that thought process when it comes to dealing with my own issues.

just to be clear, this is really me trying to get word out on how frustrating it is to be constantly guaged by one facet of my character, when i have many. i am not saying i am special for thinking this. i'm sure that there are many who feel the same but do not have the words to adequately describe what they are going through. i've never thought myself part of a crowd, nor have i ever thought i was special. while this may sound like a paradox to you, it really is true. as a child i never really fit in, and though it bothered me for a few years, i suppose that somewhere along the way, i've just given up trying to fit someone else's bill. this does not make me interesting or unique.

this just makes me me trying to be a better version of me.

hush.

tremble,
because you don't have any other excuse for an illness.
shake,
because you don't have another reason to leave.

listen,
because you don't have anything (or anyone) else to speak to
but me.

so take me and don't let me go,
still me,
while i still feel like i need you.

don't silence this thought,
you know not what it's like in the dead of the night.

it's too much sometimes,
that immeasurable task of living life.

maybe i just want to be.

quiet.

maybe i just need,
you.

on their own.

when i say i want to be wanted, that is really just what i mean. i've been hurt too many times to count and it's obvious to me now that i have brought this upon myself. still, do i not deserve a chance to be  happy?

while i keep saying that i will move on from this, i know that it's not as easy as typing out the words.

maybe it's best i stew in these feelings of loss for awhile. perhaps after, i will truly know the fortune that comes with having the right person, and stop settling for less.

reveal. pretend. love.

outrun the night.

i was born with an enormous need for affection and a terrible need to give it.

-audrey hepburn

i don't really know how to explain this condition. maybe i just want to be safe somewhere with someone. i fear that my fear for loneliness, far supersedes the fear i have for where my impulsive nature has a habit of leading me. while it's true i do my best work when left to my own devices, this addiction is stifling. my need for people, or human interaction, has taken me down many a dark alley that never fails to leave me feeling violated, drained and dead inside.. but i always end up going back.

the simplest theory for my affliction would probably be that fairytales and grand ideas of romance have warped me and robbed me of what little sense i have, and though i have no intention of getting married and settling down with five fat babies any time soon, all i want is to be a reason for someone to say they know what love is.

silly huh.

i play around with the idea that detachment can cure me of this, and sometimes say sternly to myself "no more.". sadly, i never get around to sticking to my resolve. keeping my heart under lock and key is something i try too hard to do, and more often than not, i'm like a child who breaks into their own piggy bank under the lure of a candy store. i have an excess of life for awhile, but then get violently ill. days later, i cave once again, knowing full well i haven't yet had time to heal, but who gives a shit. maybe that was a bad batch and the next will be better.

the delusion that i'm just hopeful is basically fully fledged denial, and the irony is that i'm fully aware of it but don't quite want to look reality in the eye. the fact that i'm sick to death of being hurt, but am some kind of emotional junkie is probably so much closer to the truth, and everyone knows a desperate addict would never admit it.

so yeahh, i suppose to hold back sometimes is a good thing. then again, how can i, when all i want to do is fall? the possibility of burning out, a very likely scenario, should be enough of a deterrent for giving a piece of my heart that i don't really own away but it's not. what bugs me is that no matter how hard i try, this is the part i cannot rationalize and it drives me crazy. the need is endless, and i know it's destroying whatever poor excuse of a self-preservation system i have, but i still want it.

i still want to be found.