It’s been a while since I did the whole emo thing, but I think I’m headed down that path again and I don’t think I like it much. I’m frustrated… and I’m feeling like there is nothing worse than being in a relationship where you think you’re the only one who’s trying. It hurts. And I know if she reads this it’ll start a whole other argument that I really just don’t have the energy for anymore.
I’m tired of arguing. I’m tired of going to bed and reaching over to hold her only to have her flinch away and move to the edge of the bed, trying to get as far away from me as possible. I’m tired of asking if she wants to do anything together, something as simple as watch a fucking movie on the couch only to be told “no, it’s cool. you can play your video games.” I’m tired of reaching for a kiss only to have her be cold and hold herself utterly still while I kiss her like I’m forcing her to suffer through it.
Is it me? What the hell changed so fast that I didn’t even notice? We were fine just a week ago and now it’s like we’re just roommates. I’m just someone who happens to live in the same house and sleep in the same bed and help pay the damn bills. We’ve only been together a year and a half, when the hell did we fall into the “Married for 20 years and just deal with other” category?
My sister says I should try to talk to her; figure out what’s wrong. I ask, why fucking bother? Every time I try to ask what’s up or what’s wrong, I get the cold shoulder and told “nothing, I’m fine.” Sure. Sure you are, you fucking liar. I had to take a drive tonight and smoke a cigarette, whilst I’ve been trying to quit, and feel guilty about feeling like shit, like this is my fucking fault. I don’t even know what the fuck happened.
What the fuck happened?
So I’m just going to sit here and drink my liquor and get drunk and play more video games and listen to my emo music and pass out right here at my desk, because even the wooden surface of this table is warmer than my bed at night.
Nothing I Do Is Right
And maybe it’s true. Maybe I do feel more strongly for her than she does for me. Maybe I do love her more than she loves me. And maybe she means more to me than I do to her. And it fucking hurts.
I feel like I am constantly busting my ass to make her happy; because that’s what you do when you love someone, you try your best to make sure they always smile. But it’s like… lately, my very voice irks her. The thought of being in my presence disgusts her. The idea of living with me is repulsive to her. I am…. frustrated.
I’m fucking frustrated. And I’m hurt. And I’m confused. Because, not a few months ago, she was all gung ho about this relationship. She was the one who wanted to start something with me, and now she thinks I’m taking things too fast and that I’m too serious and ITS THE SAME SHIT ALL OVER AGAIN.
I keep making the same fucking mistake. And I don’t know what’s wrong with me. What is so bad about my underlying personality that nobody wants to fucking be with me? Why am I such a bad fucking person that the idea of getting close to me is repulsive? And why the fuck does this hurt so goddamn much every time?
You would think that I’d be used to it. That I could just deal and let it go and move the fuck on. But I can’t. And I’m sitting here trying not to cry all over again. Story of my fucking life.
I need to just be a hermit because I finally figured out what hurts me the most: PEOPLE.
I Find Myself Falling for a Heterosexual
It fucking sucks. I’ve been spending all this time searching for that “perfect” girl; not perfect in the conventional sense, but perfect for me. And this one is. She’s intelligent, attractive, social, geeky, charismatic, and… well, in short, she’s amazing. I want her, and I know I have absolutely no shot with her, and it’s had me brooding all day. If only we hadn’t have gotten drunk at that party last night, and if only she didn’t kiss me again and again, and tell me how great and wonderful I am. If only I had never met her…
Because now I don’t know what to do. I barely even want to see her now, knowing that each moment I spend with her is only going to make it worse for me. And I’m not stupid. I’m not kidding myself. I know I have no shot. I know I shouldn’t even bother. But every time I see her…. every time she laughs and smiles that wonderful smile of hers, I fall deeper. And I barely even know her.
It’s frustrating. I settle all the time, and I’m so fucking tired of settling. But now, I really have to wonder, is there anyway for me not to end up settling? Is there really someone out there made for me? Someone who can look at me and actually see through me the way she does. Is there anything worth looking forward to, now that I know what’s possible?
I’m thinking there’s not… and I may end up deciding that it’s better for me to just be alone than to have to settle for someone who just isn’t quite right for me.
I’d Give So Much to Be In Love…
With someone who loves me back.
Just a Heads Up
Being alone does NOT mean that you will not get hurt. There are many a time when you fall for someone without even realizing that you had an inkling of emotional attachment. There will be days where you think about that person in passing and not even consider the significance of that thought. There will be that one moment when you finally admit to yourself, “okay, so yeah, I like her a little bit.” And then WHAM! She’s dating someone else, or kissing someone else, or fucking someone else, and NEWS FLASH that someone? Yeah, that’s not you.
So, just because you’re not with that person, and just because you decide to keep your mouth shut and your feelings to yourself… this does NOT make you impervious to pain or disappointment. This does NOT mean that you are now unfeeling and can’t be touched. Making that assumption would be detrimental. Being alone will NOT save you. Just admit it to yourself and stop trying to prove that you don’t need people and you don’t give a shit about love. Because you do. And no matter what angle you look at it from… IT HURTS.
I’m Done With This
So, it’s official. I’m an idiot. I thought I could do this. I thought I could see you all the time, talk to you everyday, and be okay with us not being together. I thought we could spend time together and laugh and joke and become good friends.
I thought I could stop loving you.
And, for a while there, I could. It worked. But I realized last night that it only worked because I believed you were as miserable without me as I am without you. I kept holding on to this stupid fucking hope that you would discover that you really do love me and that you can’t live without me and that we should be together.
Fuck, Lucy. We should be together.
And, now, I’m screwed. Cuz I came over last night and you had another girl there. You, who proclaimed that you wouldn’t date anytime soon or get close to anyone. You could never see me as a serious girlfriend because you’re still in love with your ex. But it was never about us. Not even when there was an “us.” You left me… four months ago. But you kept calling me, texting me, messaging me online. You kept telling me that you thought about me and missed seeing and hanging out with me. You, who had sex with me scant weeks ago. You, who often kiss me in the throes of passion.
I’ve been mind fucked. You took everything from me. I got royally screwed and left with nothing, and it’s my own fucking fault. Hope is hard as hell to kill, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live life seeing you happy without me… with someone else… not knowing I’m bloody miserable without you.
So, please, by all means, play the game; just don’t use my heart as the ball. I have nothing more to give. I spent all of last night crying on my best friends couch while he tried to console me as best as he could and convince me that I’m not the fool that I know I am. No more.
I’m done with this.