Forgive my drunken musings from st Patricks day
The people I think are the ones closest to me aren’t. You complain that you can’t have anyone and yet you don’t want me. Why is my life so screwed up? Why do I always end up feeling this way? Why is it that whenever I feel that everything is going right it manages to screw up completely? I say it because I don’t think that I screw it up, I think that that happens on its own accord, why would I want to screw anything up? Maybe it’s because I read too much into things that possibly shouldn’t be read. Maybe it’s because I’m needy and frail and vulnerable and co-dependant, but striving to be the opposite of all those things? Is that what I come off as? That I don’t need you? I do; I need you to keep me here, to stop me from leaving forever. From letting myself go to a place that I think would be better than this, if “this” is what I think this is. While that is the extreme, I don’t see it being so far away. If I don’t force you to, will you still be here? Will you like me at all? Will my cascading tears do anything to stop you? Will my silent hell disturb you? Do you want to help me? At all? Ever? Would it be better for you if I left, stop calling, stop smsing, stop blogging, stop emailing; just stopped. I push you away because I think that’s what you need, not that its what I need. I need you. I need the people that I care about but seem to not care about me at all. That seem to dismiss me as a hanger-on, one of the followers that will always be there, but not an important fixture not someone they care about, not someone they feel is necessary to involve….While this may sound like extravagant self loathing, is it? Think about this really. Do you think of me at all? I do, I think of you all the time, your on the top of my friend list and yet I’m on the peripheral of yours. How does that translate to you? How does that affect you? It doesn’t, does it? You don’t care at all because you’re comfy in your little nest of routine and completeness. My neediness isn’t something that you have to deal with: “come back when you’re over it”
I will never be over it. I need the people I thought cared. I know you don’t, but at least act that way. Please. For me. Act as if I mean something at all to you.
posted by Super_Hot_Mel @ 1:52 pm
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