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I knew you wanted me. I could tell from the look on your face, the way your hand lingered and the fact you even walked me to my car. I could feel it. I desperately wanted you to act. Needed you to be the one to first. It is my fault though. I pulled away. I distanced myself. And I drove away. I regret it. You aren’t a mind reader. I need to hear the words.

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I know it’s me. I know it’s my fault for self sabotaging but why do my friends always disappoint me. Why do I think they treat me like shit

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In 27 years I’ve never once been in love. Never had a boyfriend. Never really had a real first date. I’ve gone through life alone for 27 years and I am tired. Don’t get me wrong, there have been plenty of guys I’ve been interested in but it just always seemed they were never into me. And the ones that were into me I didn’t feel a spark. They didn’t make me laugh and I didn’t find them attractive.

I thought I was in love when I was around 4/5. We’d known each other since kindercare and our families hung out all the time. I’m not sure what it was about Mikey. Maybe it was because we always ended up in the same class. Or maybe it was because whenever I was with him it was just fun. We were kids so nothing could get too complicated. Once I moved I thought those feelings would go away but they have always lingered. Sometimes I think about him. But I remember how happy he is with his girlfriend of 10+ years and the house they just bought together and I know he’s doing just fine without me in his life.

I thought I felt like I was in love again when I was in middle school. Specifically 6th grade. In world history I sat next non other that Frank. He was your typical emo/skater kid. We got along. Had plenty in common. And even went to the same after school program so we saw each other pretty often. We were so close in fact that in became a running joke in our class that we were dating. Now my memory gets fuzzy but if I know myself I have a feeling I would have gotten red in the face and then super defensive even though I would have loved nothing more than to be dating him. But I panic and think that that is the last thing frank wants is to be attached to me like that. Did that stop me from walking right up to him on Valentine’s Day in front of the whole class and giving him a Valentin I made for him? No. No it didn’t. Because I may have been stupid but I was no coward. But all that got me was a few “hi’s” in the hallways for the next 2 years of middle school as we hardly saw each other. We didn’t speak at all by the time we got to high school we’re eventually he left half way through for personal reasons. And with his untimely death a few years back I will never get the chance to tell him how much he meant to me even if he didn’t feel the same way about me.

And then there was Josh. As much as I would like to paint him as the bad guy I just can’t. The older I get, the more I realize I’m just a coward and if anything I used him in the end. It wasn’t love. It never was. At first it was a challenge. He had ever girl in middle school falling at his feet and I was willing to walk right up to him and tell him that “mustache” looks ugly and should shave. We both saw each other as a challenge. What he didn’t realize though was no matter how much sweet talking he did, it wasn’t going to get him any dirty pictures. I had an idea of what romance, relationships and love where and what we had wasn’t that. It scared me. He realized very fast that I wasn’t putting out so my phone eventually went silent. Then we got a little older. He said he thought of us as friends and I tried to believe him. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that he would only try and talk to me when he was in between girlfriends. So when I moved I thought I would finally let him go. But I was wrong. I had just come back to visit for the holidays and had also just got the news that one of my close friends had just died in a car accident on her way to see her family. I spent that whole trip with either a drink in my had or just sleeping. It’s like I wasn’t really there. But I was. And while I was I got a text from non other than Josh himself asking if I wanted to see a movie. For context he also knew this friend so in my mind he was asking so he could check up on me. I was wrong. Once I was in that car I knew I was wrong because he mentions about 2 minutes in that he broke up with his girlfriend. My stomach dropped and I didn’t know if it was from anticipation or disappointment. Needless to say we didn’t watch the movie. But even in my drunken stupper of that trip I knew better then to sleep with him. So came home with some dignity. After I got home I was bombarded with text after text of “when can I see you next” or “I can come to where you live now” or “we can make this work I swear”. I never once answered. I had a man telling me everything I always wanted to hear and I ran from it. Maybe it was because I knew I didn’t love him. Or because it would never really work. But either way I was a coward. So Josh for that I’m sorry.

I’ve had moments were I liked someone since. But they never amounted to anything. Mostly because I never said anything. And the one time it did since Josh it felt like a punch to the gut. Nothing hurts more then when that person knows how closed off you are, finally gets you to open up, only for them to just fuck you (and not that great if I might add) then say deuces.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I suck at online dating. I have truly seen too much dateline. I’m getting to a point where I just think maybe I’m ugly on the outside and inside as well.

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Today he let me down. He had done all those little things that made me think he was different. That he was someone I could finally open my heart to. But he let me down. And I am still so madly into him that in my head I keep making excuses for him. I keep giving him chances of redemption. But I should have know from that day after we finally slept together and I didn’t hear anything from him. I didn’t hear anything from him for 6 whole days until we had to see each other again and he never once brought anything up. Never once paid me a compliment. And he barely talked to me at all until later in the night. All of that leads to now. Here I am having to tell him I am positive with an STD. I have only had 2 sexual partners in my life and he is one of them. And I have only ever slept with them once. But here I am taking all the blame because I was afraid he would hate me. Afraid he would never want to talk to me again. So I apologize over and over and over because somehow I do feel like it’s my fault, like I should have checked he had a condom on or asked if he was all clean before then. But none of that wouldn’t have mattered. He thinks it was me, I can tell. In all the chaos and fear of losing this new thing we had I spoke up and told him how I felt. I told him that I liked him which for me is not an easy thing to do. Then there was silence. Silence for 20 minutes before he told me we can talk about it later and to not stress. But I’m no fool. I don’t open my heart and I know when it’s about to be broken. It already is. He doesn’t want me. He might have never really wanted me and just chose me that night because I was there. It’s stupid really. He is someone I actually would sit and picture a life with not just sex but that was back when he was still so far out of reach. I’ve been on the verge of tears all day but they won’t come and it’s because deep down I knew he was never really mine. I was his but he was never mine.

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As a kid I looked up to you. I respected you. And I loved you. I thought you gave me everything and the world and as far as necessities are concerned you did. A roof over my head, food in my stomach, clothes on my back and even vacations. But as I’ve gotten older I’ve started to resent you both. Not for want we had or didn’t have but for the things you both lacked. Never really hugging, being talked over, being ignored, snarky comments and the drinking. You were always the “fun” parents to everyone else but they never had to watch you both down a 24 pack of Miller lite for Friday night tradition. Or make you cocktails all night. Or see you both stubble in from a night out after you shouldn’t have drove, tripping up the stairs and leaving your phones at the restaurant only for you to scream at me when I told you I found them. Or at five years old waking up in the middle of the night to no one home but just me and my sister only to find you both next door with the neighbors having “a couple” beers. All the while the older I get the nastier you both get. Saying hurtful shit that I won’t just lie back and take anymore. But that’s not true. I do lie back and take it. I did today. I shut down again and instead of you both seeing that I was shutting down you assumed I was stressed from my environment. But I don’t know why I’m surprised. You’ve never been that perspective. The amount of times I came home after just crying or having a panic attack in my room and you both never noticed. Or when during quarantine how much arms were covered in cuts, my body losing more weight, me drinking from the minute I got up to the moment I went to bed or all the times I would lie on the floor and debate on killing myself. Even my friends who lived in Florida knew when we were in Colorado things were wrong because I wasn’t eating and they never saw my arms/wrists not once. But the people I lived with, had dinner with, spoke to everyday didn’t see anything. And even now that I don’t live with you your both still either blind or ignorant. And I don’t know which is worse.

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I had a terrifying thought today that sent me spiraling. If I ever kill myself or even attempt to no one would find me. No one would be there to stop me and save me. Yeah I have my pets but they can’t really do anything. My cat is not gonna dial 911 and my dog is not gonna preform cpr. And I know I shouldn’t be thinking this. I should be thinking that I shouldn’t kill myself and that there is so much more to live for. Well trust me I do. I tell myself those things about 10,000 times a day. I don’t want to die. But sometimes it is just too much. That voice in my head it just too much and I just feel like I’m losing. Whenever my parents ask what is wrong I always say I’m tired and for a long time I truly thought it was a lie but now it’s not. Now I’m tired of fighting my own thoughts. I’m just fucking tired.

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I hate funerals.

They are just so sad. Everyone piles in one house, watches a slideshow of pictures over and over again of their lost loved one, cooks/eats too much food, and constantly talks about death and dying.

Today was the funeral for my Pop (grandfather) and it was all of those things I just described. But I think I’m broken. I have hardly cried since I found out he passed.

He was older, around 83, and had been on dialiaysis for about 6 years. He also had AFIB, low blood pressure, covid and pneumonia just to top it off. And no, covid was not the cause of his death but let’s face it, it defiantly made things more complicated and horrifying.

I felt as though I had to prepare myself for the inevitable but now I’m afraid I prepared myself too much and I just don’t feel anything.

When I found out he died my first thought was “How is my grandmother doing!” And ever since I think about what he meant to my sister, or my cousin Bryan, or all the things he did for my cousin Danielle and how they all feel. And yet I just feel like a waste as I sit there with nothing. No tears. Just staring at nothing in the silences when no one looks and hopes someone/anyone notices. And that if they do, they are perceptive enough to know that I’m lying when I say I’m fine.

But they never notice. And if they do they take my word at face value.

I love my grandfather and I’m devastated he is gone. I am relieved however that he no longer suffering, that he went peaceful, and that he had my grandmother to love him. He was the most hard working, honest, loving, toughest, tannest, open minded men I’ve ever ment and I’m so lucky that I had him in my life for 25 years.

You know my mother keeps turning to me and saying that it’s a “different hurt when you lose a parent” and that “you just feel empty.” But I think what she has failed to realized that us grandkids didn’t lose a typical grandfather. We lost a father figure. With my dad only being home for 2 weekends a months for 18 years of my life and my cousins parents begin divorced and their dad not really being around a ton he was more a father than a grandfather.

Hell he picked my up from school when I had gotten my period and bled through my pants in middle school! Without question too.

And it didn’t matter what it was he was there and he would do his best to either do it or motivate us to do it.

I miss him everyday. I dream about him in my sleep about how he was really joking and that he will be home soon. I hear his voice in my head before I go to do anything. A part of thinks that if I cry I will feel better. Anything has to be better than feeling like a zombie. But instead I just stare off while my hands shake and I just wish he knows that I appreciate everything he did for not only me but for Ellie, Danielle, Bryan, Ryan, and Christoper too. And in some ways I feel like I appreciate the things he did for them more than what he did for me but I’m not really sure why.

It just brings me solace knowing that they always had that person. They always knew they had at least one person in their corner no matter what. And I type this my heart brakes knowing that now none of us will never have that comforting thought again.

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I Feel Like I’m Dying

I’m sure many of you don’t have to imagine want working in this pandamic is like. Or having been out of work during it as well. I just so happened to be both. You see I am a hairdresser for a living so we are really deem essential. Only until celebrities or politicians need to look good then all of a sudden we are necessary but not really. 

I have spent the last year trying to pick up the pieces that this shitshow of 2020 has given me and I just feel like I am sufficating. 

I’ve put in the work though. I mustard up the courage to go to my doctor back in May and tell her that I was cutting myself and that I wanted to die. I started taking Zoloft after that. I’ve been better I guess. Some days are better than others. 

I quit drinking. Only to fall of the wagon two days ago. I hate myself for that. See my problem is I never know when to stop. I can drink an entire bottle of lord knows what and still think I’m okay to drive.

One day when this is all over hopefully I’ll be better. I won’t feel like this anymore. For now I just walk around everday like a zombie. I’m dead on the inside. But no one can know. After all I am the funny one.

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🙈😕👀 on We Heart It.

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Clear your mind here

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let the beat be your lifeline | via Tumblr on We Heart It http://weheartit.com/entry/106498941/via/hipsttaplease

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Manic en We Heart It.

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Chic.

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