Saturday, June 12

Horrible Conversations With Myself...


Whenever I get sick, I become so damn needy. Not that I act on it or anything. I sort of just lie in bed, wishing that someone would give a fuck about me.


God. I'd like to shrivel up and die right now.


I'm not saying that people don't care about me. That would be downright disingenuous. I have very lovely people in my life whom I respect and care deeply for. I just want someone to bring me soup. Or sit in bed and watch 80's movies with me all day, gathering warmth from big blankets and hard bodies. I want someone here. Tangibly here.

Someone emotionally available, I guess.


And I can only think of one someone that I want that someone to be--- that, my friend, is delusional.

...


I want what I can't have, what you're unwilling to give me. So instead, I take what I can get--- hoping that it'll be enough. But I'm afraid it never will be.


Who are you trying to fool, kid? You know it never will be enough.

Then what the fuck am I suppose to do?

Move on.

I can't. I've tried. God knows I've tried.

Then maybe you need to be miserable now so that you can be happy later?

I'm firmly rooted in the present, thanks. My generation is all about instant gratification, after all.

If you want to get better, truly get better...you know what you have to do.

I don't want to.

You have to.

I can't.

This isn't good for you. It isn't healthy. Love is about caring for yours and another's emotional/spiritual well being. You aren't doing that. You aren't loving yourself. Remember what you've learned? Remember how far you've come? Please, please, please. Remember these things. You can't love him more than you love yourself.

But I'll miss him too much.

You'll miss the person you had the chance to be even more.


...

He makes you forget that you're amazing. You think you're ugly because he doesn't like you. You think you're stupid and foolish whenever he's around. You shouldn't. You're beautiful. You know you're beautiful. Why would you do that to yourself?

Because he might---

Change his mind? Never. He doesn't like you. He won't love you the way you want him to. You need to understand. Try to understand.

He'll be miserable.

Are you shitting me? He'll be fine. Doubt he'd even bat an eyelash.

I'll be miserable.

Yes, for a little while.

How long is 'a little while', exactly?

As long as it takes for you to move on.


Fuck.



-Cheers.

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