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If anybody were to ask me, I "fucking hate" you. But sometimes it almost seems like I feel the opposite, and other times you're just a goof ball I know. It goes without saying that we're "compatible," but maybe not in that way. Inevitably, I have far too many affections on my plate already without your meddling, so please catch somebody else by the heart or the throat.
The complete inconsistency of what's on my mind tends to wear me away. I don't know what to write about, really, so I just type whatever crap jumps into my head or heart or hands. Since I slept all day, I will lie awake all night, and I think that's okay with me, because I have a lot of things to sort out.
Often times I'm afraid of who I am going to turn out to be. I guess that's all I have to say.
I've been slacking off on this lately, but I've been busy with friends and I have been sleeping better lately. But during the night I am "never really asleep, and never really awake." It's a constant state of draining energy, flipping channels and tap tap tapping of the keyboard. I am tired, too tired to sleep.
I am thinking back on an older entry, Thrift Store Heart or something, and realizing that it's one of those things I thought was 100% brilliant but isn't, not really. I still like it though. Just thought I should point that out..
My continuous inability to feel anything for anyone but you is another dead end in the empty, twisted city of my life. Another road block, another alley that leads to nowhere, another what-have-you. I am still dreaming about you constantly and I still wake up with a smile on my face. And realization hits and I am left alone, my dreams forgotten. The only things I remember about these dreams is your face, I remember seeing your face.
Reality is exhausting without you.
We all have some sort of price to pay. We all have some sort of toll that has been taken. People who are beautiful always have personality flaws, or dead family members, or a deep, dark secret. People who are intelligent always lack something, whether it be a singing voice, or a mother and father, or writing ability, or beauty. People who are likeable are always missing talents or creativity or intelligence. Nobody has everything, and yet some people have nothing. Some people are just plain lucky, and others, not so much. It's not fair that some people live in total poverty while others nap in their hot tubs. It's not fair that some people see a flawless face in the mirror while others see nothing but hatred for themselves.
It's not fair, I want it to change, right now.
I just wrote an entire entry and erased it. It was so stupid. I hate reading the things I've written, for the most part. I hate trying to express something, but it wont come into words, only deep breaths and glares at the wall. I hate being so angry you can't speak, but all you want to do is scream and scream and scream.
I hate spending so much time on this. I hate fucking around with my emotions, and I hate it even more when YOU do. I just want you to be here so I can hold you and everything will be alright. But I'm afraid you're not looking for a relationship, I'm afraid of getting hurt and I'm afraid of being fucked up and over. I don't need to feel that way. If it means becoming a shell, so be it. I'd rather be a shell than a fool with her heart on her sleeve.
They say you never forget your first love. And I don't know who the fuck they are, but they're goddamn right. You never do. It goes from a throbbing, incomprehensible pain, a hurt so deep and so pure you can't breathe or sleep or speak, to a sharp pulse in your chest, a choked back sob or six thousand, to a dull ache, a scar that has never correctly healed, a wound you didn't know how to nurture so now you're stuck with it.
"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me."
Is it entirely impossible to get over someone?
It seems like it takes everybody else a few days. Weeks, at the very most. But for me, for you, for this, it's taking days and weeks and months. I don't know what I am going to do. It's so draining to not think of you. To not smile when something reminds me of you. To not cry when I hear your name. It's pathetic, it's repulsive. The human heart is a sick fucking thing. I want to get rid of mine, sometimes.
"What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are, and what a gross, little stage we dance on. What fun we have, dancing and fucking, not a care in the world. Not knowing that we are nothing. We are not what was intended."
Indecision has always sucked. Indecision is a constant source of inspiration from me. I'm finding that it's 4:45 in the morning, but I can't decide if I want to sleep tonight or not, because I'd like to see your face tomorrow.
Crushes have always confused me.
I think I will go to sleep.
Or maybe I wont.
The point of this is, my life is pretty pointless. And reciprocation has always been a problem in one way or another. I'm tired of this. And I doubt this is making any sense at all, and I doubt it ever will, to anyone, not even me.
I have recently noticed how much I say the word I. I have been trying to cut down, but it's difficult, and I'm frightened that I'm self centered. I think I am.
Fuck, I hate that word. Hillary hates that word. Whatever. It is a source of dislike in the brain of the person who is typing this.
Much better. Or maybe worse.
You decide, for once.
Posting in the morning is against my usual blogging pattern, but I like the irregularity. I haven't been keeping as active as I would like, not that anybody's missing it, but I am trying to keep this up, for myself. I want to remember everything.
I have been busy, but I still find time to think of him.
I have been mostly sleeping without dreams, but I still have dreams that contain him.
I have been noticing that he's immune to all of my shortcomings. No matter what, he is still in my head constantly. I hate you (or at least I'm trying to).
