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[sanscontent]

Sunday, September 1, 2024

4:31 PM

Rejoice! Here we have my aforementioned happy post—I have come bearing good news. These posts have mostly (try entirely, lol) been negative so far, and I'm certainly still having a hard time right now mentally, but I have a lot to be thankful/appreciative/proud regarding right now.

I've spent the past ten years reading novels online that are originally written in Chinese or Korean and then translated into English. It's been a daily routine of mine for that entire period, with me being an active member of the community. Recently, I saw an opportunity and have now been hired as a part-time/freelance editor for one of the novels on Wuxiaworld, the site I use! I've been a paying subscriber since they gave the option, so perhaps I can just see this as a refund lol.

The pay is actually pretty garbage considering I live in America, but I'm not doing it just for money. I have a supervisor and have gone through extra training on writing as part of my job, and it's been really exciting to see my English skills improving. They've always felt pretty good before, and it didn't seem like I had any more progress to make. Fortunately, now I can keep getting better with a visible goalpost.

Wuxiaworld is an international company, with my coworkers spread across many countries including Korea, Romania, Japan, China, Thailand, France, Germany, and even Egypt! After losing such a huge chunk of my friend group after *the incident,* it's been nice to be part of a tight-knit community. The novel I edit for is originally in Korean, so I have a translator and novel manager that I work with to edit the translated output. Tbh the novel isn't that great, but it's productive work and great teamwork skills building.

SECOND positive. Yes, we even have two! It was a big negative I had neglected to mention before, but a teenager in the Taco Bell parking lot stupidly hit my car with his bigass truck. The kicker? I was fully parked, not even in my car, standing in the Taco Bell entrance as I watched this dumbass teen turn the steering wheel the wrong way and slam right into my beautiful ride. It wouldn't have been as big of a deal, since it was only the back-right of my car that was damaged, but the place I took my car to get assessed said repairs would cost 85% of the car's total value—that would have totaled my car, a devastating blow. That hung over my head for a month or two, but fortunately THE GOOD NEWS IS my mom came in clutch and bothered them enough for them to value my car higher so insurance would cover it. My car is now nice and cleaned out, like new. I plan to drive it until it dies.

THIRD good news. Shocking, I know. I've started working out with a friend after work. I've gotten a routine from another friend, so my exercise is structured and showing clear results. I'm working out five times a week doing cardio and lifting weights, and I've lost some weight while gaining muscle. I'm feeling really good about it, though I've also seemed to step up how much junk food I eat lol. I gotta eat better, so I'm buying better groceries and trying to force myself to make good meals. Best of luck to me!

Things are going well. After *the incident* I chose to skip the first seven weeks of school and focus on feeling better. That's worked out, and the hope is that I'm able to transition back into full-time classes with little to no issue in a few weeks. Rejoice, my friends! This is my redemption arc~

[sanscontent]

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

3:14 PM

Well fuck, man. I was supposed to actually break the mould with a happy post. Maybe I'll save that for another time.

I sent a message. "I don't want to ambush you with something you aren't in the mood to/outright don't want to hear. Can we call or text sometime this week to talk?"

Was this the right move? Yes and no. Unfortunately, the timing makes it as such that classes are about to start up again. This means her friend, who now hates me and has a lot of social pull at the college, will be back. That could mean spreading word of what happened and destroying my reputation not just among friends, but among my coworkers as well. I felt a bit trapped, and felt I needed to do SOMETHING to try and nip it in the bud.

It was also a bad move. I sent it over Snapchat, meaning she has to purposely open it before she sees what it says. My goal was to message without pressure, but that puts pressure up anyways. It sorta defeats my purpose.

She also has a shitload of unread Snaps all the time, so I'll disappear easily in the fog of war. It's been almost two days, but she hasn't even opened the message yet. That doesn't bode well for me, and seems to indicate she doesn't want to ever talk to me again. The hope would be that she's just taking a day or two to think about it, but I find that unlikely.

The personal ramifications, like as far as my own self-image, are REALLY getting to me. I'm convinced at this point that I would've killed myself in an impulsive fit of shame by now if it weren't for having family and people who would be sad if I were gone.

I hurt someone I cared about, and I actually just can't fix it. That's something I have to carry around forever now. I think that, technically speaking, it's the greatest wrong/evil I've done with zero malice. I'm not sure what objectively worse things I've done before. Now whenever anyone mentions similar things I immediately categorize myself as having committed it before. I think it is kinda grey, and the reason it was described as they did was partly due to a misunderstanding regarding my knowledge of her state of lucidity, but it's still brutal regardless.

Like I took so much pride in being the one who exercised restraint. Having this on my shoulders feels like I should just cease existing. I feel like I just want to give up everything. The urge to self-sabotage myself is so unbelievably strong right now, lol. I want to ruin myself, but like the suicidal ideation/urges I'm sure it's probably just a product of self-reproach and an impotent desire to fix things. It's like I want to die as atonement—to prove how sorry and regretful I am. It's delusional.

I haven't been at this kind of mental/emotional low in a really long time. It's a little interesting to feel/experience it again, but also fuckin' sucks lol

Maybe I'll try to make this consistently/often updated for the first time. Who knows. The further I elaborate the worse it looks to anyone I want to share this diary with, lol.

[sanscontent]

Thursday, July 25, 2024

8:34pm

So we're two weeks in. I've agonized over this the entire time, going through plenty of stages in the process. My gut says to reach out, but then again I think it's more my mind that wants to. I can draw lines and manipulate logic to understand others' viewpoints—I can do it very well. But unfortunately, it can also be incredibly self-serving. When I want to reason out a certain outcome in my head, like she's waiting for me to message/apologize, I do it. The problem of the motivation for that logic isn't exactly a conscious one, but it's one I've been able to reason out.

I suppose it's natural. I'm all about emotional intimacy, honesty, and ESPECIALLY communication, and yet I can't practice those things now. I robbed myself of that opportunity/privilege.

Waiting these two weeks has felt agonizing, but I've also gradually gotten a better view on things—at least, I think it's better/improved. Just as when at an emotional high and about to argue, sometimes it's best to just cool down first and see it with a clearer mind the next day. I would have thought my cooldown period would be shorter, quicker, but it appears not.

I find myself realizing newer things, and having retrospective disgust against myself—not only for what I did then, but for who I am as a person in general. I used to take so much pride in following the particular logic of respect in my head, adhering to rules, and yet I broke so many in one fell swoop. One mistake, yet having innumerable precedents and erroneous thoughts/beliefs manifesting it. I suppose it's also a product of those skewed beliefs and flawed logic, but it's entirely a lapse in my whole fuckin'. Like. *Thing.*

I chose to pride myself on not making a move, on being respectful. Making it something prideful helps with maintaining it, like I'm respecting myself. Even so, I ended up disrespecting her and not respecting my self or my character.

It all started so innocent, but I couldn't fall asleep, and as the hours dragged on it was like my brain was training for the fuckin' Olympic Gymnastics of the century. I wanted to at least cuddle, I thought that'd be cool. I hoped for it. Whenever laying with/near someone, I've always had the habit of running my fingers along the person's skin. I think it probably began as a thing I did to comfort girls who cried in my arms, but it gradually became a self-comfort as well. I'd be lying if I said it didn't also have lewd implications, but even from the very start of the habit I was very platonic with it. I ran my fingers a certain way, spread my hand a certain way, because it was how I pet my dog Harley. It felt right for some reason.

But those hands travel. They shouldn't, to be clear. Not when someone isn't interested in me. And Lord knows, I was/should have been clear that she didn't want me. I had said it several times to several people, and repeated it in my head—that we were just friends, and I'm cool for keeping it that way with such rigidity.

Then the gymnastics came in. We exchanged nudes that time, so surely that cancels out the initial BRUTAL rejection, right? Not in a way that would indicated we'd ever bang, but in my head what's a little tiddy touch?

What's some boob grabbing/massaging, without kissing and without touching pelvis? Any reasonable person would say that it's still an advance, and sex. I would tell you the same thing now. But I just fixated on those specific guidelines, no kissing, no downstairs genital touching, no letting my cuddle-intimacy-boner so much as approach her. So I don't kiss, I purposely keep my pelvis distant despite the awkward posture. I don't touch pelvis, excep-

Oh. I hear her breathing change. It's already been in my ears for hours, so I'm familiar enough to recognize it. I noticed when she fell asleep, and I believed that I noticed when she woke up. I had been running my fingers along her thigh as if it were casual, since it's something I do (that's just a convenient excuse), and I move my hand up to tummy. As my hand passes over her pelvis, and I touch her lower abdomen, I feel her twitch.

Clear sign she's surely awake, right? My gold-medal triple-tuck back-handspring brain assures me so. And again, what's a little tiddy touch? I don't see it as a move to fuck, or like a preamble to more shit, but I never communicated that. She could never know, and even if she did then that wouldn't mean she automatically agrees and goes "Oh well that's reasonable, carry on." No fuckin' way that she does. I know that now, and probably did deep inside at the time. I'm gradually realizing those things about myself in retrospect.

This isn't to try to justify my actions, or profess my innocence. I fucked up, that's a cold fact. Ice cold—obviously for her more than me, but still cold. Brutal to both. I recognized that pretty much immediately when I got into my car, and thought about it the whole way home. 'Surely I should tell her how sorry I am, right now. I took advantage of her emotional state and touched her inappropriately. That's not cool.'

But I don't say anything right then. Shame? Reluctance? Fear of fucking it up if she didn't see it as a bad thing, meaning I was overthinking? It was a lot of things driving that decision. I couldn't find the right time afterwards, so I reach out to a friend of mine who is a fancy therapist. I talk about it. Tell him that she was brutal first, then nudes, then nothing and then friends. I laid it out, that it wasn't cool. I knew I fucked up. I wanted advice on how to approach/apologize for it, because it was killing me.

So, three days later I send a video saying it wasn't cool of me to take advantage of her emotional state. I'm on tenterhooks, and eventually she responds pretty much saying it's all good. I would have kept going and talked about it, apologizing in-depth and communicating, but such a casual response from her MUST have meant it was totally washed away. Right?

Wrong lol. I just kept fucking up. I violated her trust in me as a friend and human being, took advantage of her physically. And yet me, I'm just so enthralled with the friendship and how cool she is—so enthralled that I keep planning/buying/building things to try to make it up to her with a good hangout. But FUCK, man. How was I so fuckin' stupid. I offer to come over and DRINK for a night with her? Something that would lower inhibitions even more, and make her even more vulnerable? What the fuck, man. I should've realized that's fucked, and she'd need time to feel comfortable around me.

Part of that drinking was a separate thing, and I had mainly been offering to bring my PC over to play a scary game and have fun on a computer/games since she didn't have one at her place. I found my old PC under some towels, ran up and down in my hot house, stole a keyboard and trackpad from work, did software coordination, everything. I got it working, pre-downloaded games for us to play, that she might enjoy since all the gaming she's ever done was shooters. I had also bought a Harry Potter-themed nice-ass deck of cards to give her, since at her party she said she was sad she didn't have one.

I thought I was just so fuckin' perfect, the best friend a person could be.

But how fuckin' dense, man. Ignoring her obvious signs of not wanting to do it, her claiming to simply have yet to watch the proposition video? That should have been clear. I noticed a slight distance, but that only made me want to hang out even more so I could fix it and communicate clearly/earnestly. I ignored all the signs.

Clearly, that was fucked. I made so many mistakes, not just one. It was a cascade. I broke so much trust, from her and of myself.

I'm able to view it more objectively now, ofc. Even the second that I read his message chewing me out and expressing disappointment in me, I knew the hard truth that I was just an instrument of pain right now. My very last Snap to her was about the hangout, but why should I then message her talking about what I did, bothering her? Clearly she's using him as an intermediary to tell me that she doesn't want to talk to me. If I try to reach out, that'll just cause her more pain and make her feel worse. It'd be a burden. I recognized that I should immediately stop communication since she didn't want to talk to me. She let the Snap streak end—that's a pretty fuckin' clear sign from someone who has a 700+ day streak with a person she hardly knows. I should stay clear, and if she wants to talk then she'll reach out. I can't force her to feel something or force her to hear me out. That isn't fair, and BONUS— it is also impossible.

But these gymnastics. Maybe she's just waiting for me to message and apologize again, this time clearer and with more understanding. She wants to give me an opportunity to earn trust back. That must be it!

Except ofc it isn't. I'm just trying to serve myself again. I think I'm a great friend, that incident aside, so I try to reason out that I'm a net good for her—do whatever I can to try to make a logic where I don't have to feel like such shit anymore.

But am I really a net positive? Have I not already caused enough pain? What does it say about me when I'm regaining greater clarity so long after? Why couldn't I see the shit sooner? I was blind. I was stupid. I didn't even follow my basic rule of rubbin' one out before all girl hangouts, though I could reason that was only because of the suddenness and urgency of the hangout.

What the fuck ever, man. I make excuses to myself, but I ultimately accept the reality of how fucked I was to do what I did. I won't make excuses to her, because why should she listen to me? Why should she trust what I say? Her opinion of me has already fallen so much, so how am I supposed to fix that? For fuck's sake, I'm pretty sure she's under the impression I believed her to be asleep the entire time and knowingly groped her while unconscious. Who WOULDN'T hate someone that did such a thing to them?

He certainly let her see that light. Provided input that led to the rightful rejection of me (my own believed rejection, even though she never said anything more after that), a week after it happened. Things changed so quickly. I never got my chance, man. I never got my chance to express my feelings about it or try to mend my own image in an attempt to help her feel better. I want to fix it so that she doesn't feel so violated.

But this shit is all 'me, me, me.' I took something from her, and I don't have the right to take away her time too. That's why I shouldn't message. That's why I immediately swore I wouldn't. But this is such a heavy fuckin' toll on my mind. To feel misunderstood. To have such emotional intimacy with a person be instantly cut off, and left in such a bad light. I can't handle it.

I want to message her, and I ask my friends every day "So are you SURE I shouldn't message her" even though I know the answer. At least if I message something short it isn't an ambush, right? If I just send "Can we talk sometime this week?" that'll give her the option to just outright ignore me without further thought. Messaging an entire novel out of the blue wouldn't be fair, and would be so disconnected from her emotional state at the time that it'd only aggravate her wounds.

I think I will message her. I don't think I can stand it for so long, but I've done good so far. Maybe I'll message after a month? That could be good, and make things better.

Or not.

I know even that single subscriber is likely gone, so this is my journal. I'm tempted to send this tidbit to others, to gain understanding. To send it to her. But what if the way I word things disgusts her and makes her even more hating of me?

Or worse....

What if my honest feelings and logic are so fucked that the pure and transparent look at me just evokes her disdain and loathing? What if I'm simply bad goods and toxic?

I sure hope not.

[sanscontent]

Fuck formatting, this shit is serious now

Gets hard at night. It's tough when the songs I love to listen to were shown to me by my dead e-gf. I've been trying to listen to mostly piano instrumentals, but I've managed to move on to specific concept albums. I don't like the risk of feels being brought on by a sad song. At night, at least. I guess it just depends on the time. I may post ramblings here. We'll see. Once I'm legitimately depressed and don't know how to handle my emotions I try to spread myself out to a lot of people so that I don't overwhelm any single person with my load. This leaves me with little need/time for Tumblr venting. I'd talk more about exactly what I'm going through, but I'm pretty sure whoever is reading this would already know. Sad stuff. G'night.

[sanscontent]

Sunday, April 21, 2019

10:22 pm

I cut myself yesterday, I guess today technically. But not to see if I still feel. Just out of. Curiosity? Maybe. I was also pretty upset a few hours before then. And a girl I've been talking to cuts herself a lot. I figured there must be some stellar aspect of it that I couldn't possibly understand without experiencing it myself. Turns out there's not. In other news, today was Easter, and that basically means nothing at all to me. Bianca was very distant and basically didn't actually engage me in any conversation today, which sucked. I had sent her messages about my cuts, but she didn't even check the message for four hours despite being online multiple times. So fuck her. I deleted it. She doesn't get to know. She hasn't earned it. I was hoping to be strong enough to ignore her for a bit, but I can't manage that much. This girl is toxic in my life, and it's fucked. Without her, me being sad would only be me being lonely. A far better circumstance than the bullshit she puts me through. I can't leave, so that's unfortunate. I just have to ride it out because I'm a little bitch. But shit happens. I guess. I also swam today! After I helped an old man, Andrew Jefferson, type up his college homework I drove to the lake and got in for awhile. I had to ease myself in, gradually. I decided to move around the divider poles to occupy myself until I was warm enough to plunge. It was incredibly painful and shocking at first, that cold lake water. But I got used to it. I wish I could get used to a lot of things like I get used to water temperatures. At least you have other senses while you're adjusted and once you're adjusted to water. But with emotions an adjustment means a loss. Loss of feeling. Loss of life. It's a very depressing concept, but if I'm honest it'd be a good solution to some of my feelings. I never know where I want my feelings to go. They just. Go. Anyways, I digress. Maybe I'll keep doing posts like this, maybe I won't. Just thought I'd keep the old blog rollin'. Hopefully I build up momentum and it becomes a healthy part of my life. Much love. Until next time.

[sanscontent]

Friday, April 19, 2019

9:53pm

I have a lot to be happy about. And until recently, I could confidently say that I wasn't unhappy. I would be happy at times, and generally on a slight elevation. Above that numbness. But these past few days have been hard, which brings me here. Back after three years. Needing to talk and not reaching out to anyone for conversation. Letting myself fester and germinate in sadness, creating spores of unhappiness that will only come back to sprout (regardless of consent or how many times I try to eradicate them). I feel depressed again. Like the old times. Not as a reaction. Not as a response. But as a state of being. A default. I'm depressed. Anything else is an exception. It's frustrating, but I find myself unable to rile up my feelings and condense them into action or even elaborate thought and consideration. My motivation is shot. I'm withdrawing from people in general. I'm not behaving in a healthy manner. Not smart. Though I guess being smart doesn't help my situation either way. Logic doesn't dictate my emotions, or my states of being. Not when I'm depressed. My motivation to analyze and change things goes. Just drifts off, without looking back, without a hand to reach out and ask it to stay. I want it to stay. But it won't. And I can't even try to make it. This is a feeling I haven't experienced in a great amount of time, so forgive me if I'm all over the place and borderline incoherent. This post probably doesn't live up to my past ones, and honestly I hope it dies in my heart so it can go fallow and I can go back to being a better me. To being me at all. I have one follower, and whoever you are, I love you. Thank you for being here. I hope you're okay. I hope I'm okay, too. Much love.

[sanscontent]

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

11:17pm

I’ve reached a tough point in my minimalist logo drawing thing. I have the main face, and I was thinking of using maybe older faces of mine as well and making it like a visual timeline sort of project. And that requires me to look back on Facebook to all of my past profile pictures. But then at the big points in my life my pictures are with Erica. And her not being in them would just be a misrepresentation of myself. So I’ve reached an impasse. I don’t know where I want to go next with this project. I know as little as I do with life. I’m looking at everything in my past. Everything I’ve had. And to see it just...hurts. It really hurts. Deep inside. It just feels like I've peaked. I peaked awhile ago, and it just won't get better than that. Won’t get better than being lean and having a jawline and actually having friends. Won’t get better than having a girl(s) who cares about me. Won’t get better than being mildly happy with life. Won’t get better physically especially. My hair is thinning. I’m getting a bald spot at the top of my head. I’m gaining weight. My jaw line is becoming less and less distinct. I can’t pull off any decent hairstyles anymore because my hair is so thick that it just won’t cooperate. It actually cannot do the things I want it to do. The things it was able to do a year ago. Two years ago. I’m never going to go back. It’s going to get worse and worse from here and out. Just like it has the past few years. I’m on a downward slope that just keeps getting steeper and steeper. I know it has to hit bottom eventually. It scares me. It’s already so awful, I already feel so bad on the inside. I hate to imagine how I’ll feel half a year from now when the slope has continued. Months. Years. Too much for me to handle. I just want an excuse to leave. Leave everything. I feel like I’m done playing this game, I just want to turn the system off and cut my losses. Get me out of here.

[sanscontent]

Saturday, September 10, 2016. 4:35am Kind of a weird update I guess. After I made the other post I decided to channel my feelings into art and maybe try to make a new profile pic so I buckled down and did some work in my underwear. Took me about an hour and I'm pretty proud of it so far. I still have a little bit to go, but still something to smile about. So here's to the little victories, I guess.

[sanscontent]

Friday, September 9, 2016

10:40pm

Honestly, today is the first day Tumblr let me make changes. So the previous post was actually dated back a week before that. Still the date I labeled it tho. Oops. I hadn’t thought about this for most of the week, but there are some things that have driven me to post again. No improvements on the sadness part, maybe the opposite. I’m more sensitive now. Around friends. Well. People I talk to on the internet. Curse. Discord. TeamSpeak. Etc. I don’t handle jokes at my expense well. I don’t handle people playing with others as opposed to me very well. I feel as if our friendship should be more important than playing with some other person you hardly know without me. If you have to choose between playing with randoms in a ranked match and just playing a nice normal with me, I would hope I get pick. Cam and that whole gang did that to me. I got on and was looking forward to playing with them. Hadn’t had a great day. When I get on to talk to them there are only four people in the call including me. But when I join they tell me it’s full. And bye. Goodbye Orb. Like I’m not wanted there. They’d rather play with someone they don’t speak to than me. Which. Honestly I could understand. I’m not exactly super positive when it comes down to it. Erica stopped talking to me for the same reason. A lot of people did. When I’m happier I have more friends and people to talk to. But as I get more and more depressed more and more of them leave. Just fade away. Ironic may be a word. Shitty is another. Unfortunate that when I don’t need the moral support I am flooded with people to talk to but once I become depressed and need people around they just leave. Like I’m only good enough when I’m not being myself. I have to cut down now on how sad I really am. Or how much I tell people. It can get more and more rough. I’ll make passive comments. I don’t have anyone that can really take the emotional hit of listening to me talk about my problems and how I feel. I used to. But. Those precious few aren’t around anymore. Each one the greatest friend I had at the time. My true confidante and pillar of support. But they fade away. Like all the rest. I don’t necessarily blame them. I more blame myself. If I could be happy then maybe I wouldn’t lose them. Maybe if I weren’t broken on the inside they would come back. Or have stayed. It’s wishful thinking, but nice sometimes. To just close my eyes and picture what it would be like to still talk to people I care about. Erica. Lauren. Erica. Sarah. Erica. Jasmine. Erica. Etc. Mostly girls unfortunately. Or fortunately. I dunno. Girls help more. Physically just their presence helps my mood. Helps me feel good about myself. Just knowing a girl cares is a nice thing. Tl;dr My night didn’t go great, online friends ditched me multiple times, I listen to sickeningly depressing music in an attempt to cry myself to sleep. All in vain. I’m too numb to cry anymore.

That’s all for now. God speed to whoever may be reading this. Best of luck in all endeavours. We all can use it.

[sanscontent]

Friday, September 2, 2016

5:36am

The interface is being a bit of an asshole. Doesn’t want me to save changes. But fuck it, I can work on cosmetics at another time. I’m not going to tag anything, I’m not going to advertise whatever it is I’m doing here. If you’re here, I mostly pity you. If you’re here because you care about me, it isn’t going to be a fun ride for you. I’m just as fucked up as I was years ago. Maybe moreso. If you keep coming back, I commend you. And pity you. It can’t be easy doing this, I know.

Maybe my worries or thoughts aren’t even relevant. Maybe nobody is going to look at this. I guess that’s not necessarily the point of this all. This is the pilot post, and there’s definitely going to be some turbulence along the way. But I’ll try to keep you up to date, maybe even daily. Without further ado, I’ll begin. It’s late. I don’t want to be awake, but I am. There are many reasons I could give. Laying in bed alone makes me think of when I used to not sleep alone. When I used to have friends. When I used to know people who liked and talked to me. When I used to have visits and visit others. When I used to sleep soundly. When I used to feel. When I used to have someone who cared. When I used to have someone that bothered. When I used to have it all together.

But all those things are gone now. It’s something I’m going to have to understand on the inside eventually. Or maybe I already understand. It’s just being okay with it that I need to work on. It’s functioning like a normal happy human being despite how I feel on the inside. It used to come easy. But it’s gotten harder to do with time. Each time I think it’s only temporary. I’m going to eventually get friends. I’m going to eventually have another gal I talk to. Or even a guy, for that matter. But it doesn’t happen. I try, sometimes I don’t. To fix it. To find more for myself. I don’t really know how to do any of that stuff anymore. I’ve developed an anxiety regarding social interaction. I used to be so good at it. I used to be so handsome. I used to be so smart. I used to be so loving. I used to be so loved. I used to be a whole person. At least, maybe part of a whole. I used to have a plan. I used to be able to talk to a stranger with ease. I used to have a full head of hair instead of a bald spot at the ripe age of 20. I used to be a better me. I used to be me. I don’t feel like ME anymore. I’m just. An amalgamation of sad feelings and desperate attempts at cultivating friendship. I can play video games or watch movies to try and avoid how I feel. Avoid these years of suffering I have yet to conquer. Avoid the very clear fact that I actually need fixing. She fixed me once. But then I broke again. And that was so long ago, I can hardly remember what it was like being a flagship model for youth and charm. Hardly remember laughing from my stomach. Hardly remember telling someone I loved them and really, REALLY meaning it. Being in love. I digress. Our romantic relationship ended a long time ago, and any kind of relationship ended once she realized how fucked up I’ve become. I’m too much to handle. Too much to even know of. I take too much strain. Because I’m broken. Bad. Etc. Etc. I’m sad and I want to feel like I’m actually talking to someone. Hence this whole proverbial garbage dump. I know deep down that I’m not actually talking to anyone, but it’s nice to pretend. Nice to believe. I guess I’ll end it here. We’ll see if it lasts.

If I last.