idontevencareifyoureadthis-blog - Tumblr blog

[idontevencareifyoureadthis-blog]

this is not for you

aside from the names of the people in this text, everything you are about to read is true. it is a pure stream of consciousness, written in first draft, not a single word was edited, except for the name changes. im suicidal, im lonely, it’s late, im angry, and i am overwhelmed with feelings. this text is not for you. i dont care if anyone reads this. this is me screaming into the internet darkness to unload a bag of emotion from my brain, into this world. to make it real. and to let it go.

what am i doing? do i have any idea what i was expecting to happen? was i expecting to not feel lonely? to feel young and vibrant and exciting? to have a whole life, a whole adventure, without any of the down sides? what do i want? if i cant run back to safety, if there is no safety, if there is no tim, there is no james, what will become of me?  will i just hold on to the next guy? what am i looking for here exactly? i have my place but i feel so bitter and resentful. i feel like i complicated a logistically perfect situation: money, stuff, time, company. companionship. food. who do i turn to? am i feel like this because of the wall ? the one that's taken shape because i cant tell anyone how i feel, i cant tell them whats up, whats new, whats anything. james james james james james. that's my brain. on loop. james, what have i done, james, what have i done. selfishly, selfishly, i want to see what happens with james, then accordingly settle with tim or not. if i'm honest, it's like that. i love him. i know that. but the attraction isn't always there. i wish i could stop thinking back to my life so far with so much pain. i wish i could think about happy moments instead of dwelling on the all the negative ones. i wish i had a better relationship with my past. i wish i was balanced. i wish i could be happy or grateful. what if i never can? what if james is it for me and i couldn't have him? how can i make sure i have him?  how can i appreciate the life i have instead of agonizing over the one i dont? why cant i just be happy? why is it impossible for me to be happy? what have i done to deserve .. i mean i havent been a saint exactly, but but but but i can trace it all back. to my growing up. my parents. my dreams that fell short. my decisions which were always about escape. im paralyzed all the time. when im alone, i just sit there and think. i think of the past and the present. i fantasize about the future. i wish i could make a big move, run to tim and beg him to forgive me, but james. i fantasize about that future. about his smile and his arms and having sex with him. i think about adventure and a treehouse and kids. but also rainy days and soft kisses. i dont think about that with anyone else. those thoughts are just for him. and theyre my favourite thoughts. i think about how he cant have a relationship with my dad and that makes me happy. what are you doing me? why cant you just be normal? why cant you just be happy? why do you need things to be this way? why do you get held up with these things? why can't you just... just fucking be. i think im wired wrong. or differently. or wrong. the wiring is not standard. a bad step, a false start. that's what it always feels like. like the gun went off and i hesitated for a fraction before starting to run, just a fraction but that's all it took. now everyone is up ahead and im struggling behind and i dont think im even in the same race. is it a race? i dont know what im doing. i dont know how to live outside of my head, how to live out loud. i think i can do that with him. james. i think i can do that with james. is that why this is so important to me? maybe. but it's all maybes. a whole life of not-this-but. a life of it'll be different when im older, when i can make it different it'll be different. a whole life of it'll be better later. it's now, though. right now, it's now. and ive missed so much now thinking of later. or being in later. or just not being at all. but now that im being, it doesn't feel good. it feels lonely and suffocating and not real. it feels like im not real, like im not here. who am i even? who am i when im alone. im no one. i sit in bed and think. i sit on the chair and think. of other people and other lives and questioning all my decisions. but who am i? who am i when im alone? no one. i have nothing. i am nothing. i just sit and think and am paralyzed. im paralyzed now, you can read it im sure. going in loops. im paralyzed. im falling apart. who will tell me who i am? who will pick up the pieces and shape them? it's all too much. no one knows. muffled. scared. dark. sad. a deep well. a deep hollow well. the wind passes through. it makes a sound. and no one hears it. and the only person that could, the only person who was holding a rope, keeping me from drowning, the only person who made me real, who listened, who held my hand, my port in stormy weather. the only person who sat on the edge of that well and sang songs and told bedtime stories is the only person who got hurt. is the person i couldnt with. it's the person i didnt with. and now he's gone. what am i doing. why am i doing this. why am i doing this to him. why does he need to be involved. a victim of my shortcomings. collateral damage. who am i. what am i doing. why am i alive.