Decisions

I think I've decided that I don't want to play this game anymore. I call it a game, because I don't know what else to say of it. I put myself in to it against my better judgement. Against every little voice in my head and even from those around me saying to stay away. To leave it be. I couldn't do that though. I had to see what was there. But I can't keep doing this. I can't keep second guessing myself and even my own paranoia. How bad must it be when you do that? I can't keep fighting myself on what I want, what I feel, what I need and all the conflicts against each. Especially when I only have half the battle to fight.

Surrender

Could I surrender and give it all away once more? Could I take that last step beyond fear to embrace the chance of what could be? Could I shed paranoia and doubt and accept words once considered lies? Or should I accept that it is better to turn away? To hold it all in? To keep going down this path of self-induced loneliness? How easy it would be to simply give in. To let all the emotion I've been keeping pent up to spill over and show you how it feels to be the center of a world. Instead I hold myself back and spread myself thin. Distracting myself with many and claiming for myself none. Refusing to give that last little piece. Maybe I'm just waiting for that right moment.. That one reason to finally surrender.

I Wish

I wish.. A simple pair of words that hold in them so much burden and so much hope.. So much disappointment just waiting to happen. I made a wish once and I buried the hope of it deep in my heart. I secreted it away to a place that I could keep it safe.. Hidden.. Somewhere I could keep it from reaching out and falling to the earth to shatter in a myriad of sparkling tears. How was I supposed to know that wishes had a way of trying to fulfill themselves? How was I to know that wishing for the impossible would bring me to my knees? How was I to know that it would lead me to the edge of the abyss with my dreams just out of reach? I never knew wishing for the impossible would bring me everything I would ever find to be unattainable.

I haven't made a wish in a long time, but right now, I wish you were here and I wish it didn't matter what other people thought. I wish it were enough to simply enjoy what I had tried to give rather then what others try to take. I wish you could have seen me smile before it hurt. I wish I could take back the feelings I entrusted and left the friendship pure. I wish I had listened to that little voice that said beware..

Tell Me

What am I supposed to feel, because I don't know anymore. You seem illusioned by lies and hopes even when my words tell you otherwise. You keep trying to push your "love" and your "protection" on to me when you're the only one hurting me. You say that they use me and perhaps that is true, but at least I try. Even with my own cynical paranoia I still try, because I see who you are and I never want to be anything like you. You keep trying to compare us as monsters, but I'm on a different side of the coin. We may be alike in many ways, but we're turned in completely opposing directions. I wondered before if you even listened to the things you said, but after awhile even I stopped listening and when I did that, the ache stopped. The pain faded. Now we speak again and all I hear of is your hatred. Your hurt. Who are you to cast stones when you can say you love someone and then say this to them..

you have the fucking nerve to sit there and say ive always avoided us in rl when your still living a fucking fairytale? For what? Your gonna visit. Were fucking arguing and you run away to that place?! Are you fucking kidding me right now? Am I the only grown up in this? Wow. Fucking attention whore. I fucking swear to god. You fucking little rat, fucking with me. You'll give up us for them!? I fucking knew it. I fucking smelled it on you. Youre never going to change. never. Attention seeking whoorreee thats all. You know what im not other people I wont say what you want to hear because I dont want anything from you! i fucking hate you! you mother fucker! Fuck you. fuck your fucking face bitch. all this fucking time. "Oh im never on. im not . im cooping" lying trash! liar... you deserve them. Now I cry for nothing... ignored. I should kill myself tonight just for feeling made a fool of.. Fucking whore.. you get upset cause im right. you say to stop but im right.. your a deciever.. i just.. i just wanted something more and you choose them.. over me? full of shit. i ALWAYS FUCKING fight for you you never!! do it for me! just. . . tell me when you wanna grow the fuck up.

Again, what have you illusioned yourself with? There hasn't been an us for over a year. There's been a you and me. I don't think there was really an us before we broke up. You keep saying I don't care about you, but how many times do you think you can say that before I don't? The only way to cope with talking to you is to be completely void of any emotion. I'm tired, and I can't stress that enough. Five years is my limit. Five years of taking blame and insults and thinking you were right... To think it took me so long to say enough is simply overwhelming, but I've read that above passage over and over and I feel nothing to read it. Nothing. So tell me, what should I feel?

Hatred

For so long this hatred has been burning beneath the surface. Fueled by constant emotional beatings and repressed anger. A rage that has no escape. No words. An anger that wants only to scream and lash out with teeth and claws, but when that is impossible the only weapon left is words. Words cut deep and linger in the mind and soul. They leave scars beyond the physical realm. Scars that can't easily be tended to, but it is so far from what I want. I can't feel emotional wounds with my hands. I can't tear at them with bloody nails. Can't get the satisfaction of feeling the body bruise and break beneath my onslaught.

Honestly, how many times do you think you can tell me I don't care before I stop? I'm sick of your self-pity and sick of you trying to shove the blame down my throat. Sick of you claiming that I'm saying all these things that I've never said. You only have eyes for your own "pitiful existence" as you put it. Everyone's just worthless, lying, fake scum in your eyes. Nobody cares about you. You're going to be dead in a few years. You're depressed and addicted to my "abuse". I could repeat your words back to you from day one. I don't care if you're upset that I don't say I love you. You want me to pretend, but I'm sick of pretending. Why the hell do you say you love me when I know what you think of me. You've only said it a thousand times over. I'm a weak, lying, hypocritical, manipulative and selfish whore that is no better then anyone else. I let everybody take advantage of me while I let you suffer and stab you in the back for my so called friends, because I don't care about you and I'm just a monster.

Yeah.. Five years of this and the fact that I still talk to you makes me question my own sanity, but then I've never had a good sense of survival. I wish I could have stayed angry, but I've never been good at it. I'm back to being numb, but I think anger would be preferred.

Fear

She was never so good at accepting peoples "love".. She could bask in their affection, but even that scared her. She was always waiting for that next word, that next caress, that next step that would send her running scared. How she sought after that feeling though. To feel wanted. Needed. Adored. Loved even. To feel absolutely consumed with it, but the thought of giving up everything.. All of herself.. It terrified her to no end. Not understanding her own reasons she found herself giving bits and pieces of who she was out to people who came into her life. To people she cared about. Adored. How unfair was it to them? She had no idea. She searched for the reason, but couldn't find it. Instead as she began losing feeling over her own sense of wrongness she began to think it was because she wasn't getting enough emotionally. That she just needed more to fill the void that was inside her. A void she created herself out of fear. If a person did not have all of her, they could not destroy her. They could wound her.. but they couldn't kill her.