sad

I’m replaying his words over and over. I don’t know why but I feel as if I’m about to cry; I’m listening to sad music and I’m thinking what is the point? I’ve lost it, whatever the point is, if I’ve even ever had it in the first place. I wish I could’ve asked more about what exactly had brought him almost over to the edge–I can think of one or two moments, but I wish that I had more. I always do this. I search for examples. A list by list, detail by detail account of everything I’ve done. I want all the information but I’m not sure he even knows.

That’s not necessarily what I’m sad about, though. I’m sad about a lot of things. I’m sad about how I say ‘I’ way too much, and I’m sad about the fact that my life isn’t a movie, and I’m sad about how I feel like there’s no fucking purpose for me. I wish that there was a purpose. I want a purpose.

I’m tired of dreading everything. Of looking back all the time. For once, for once, for once, I want to look forward.

It is Valentine’s Day, today. I’m spending it alone. Obviously. I think that people like me are destined to be alone. I’m one of those people that you like, and then you get to know, and then… yeah. And then you don’t like. Not anymore.

So long I’ve told myself that I don’t need love in my life, that I can do plenty of other things to be happy, but that’s not true. All anybody ever fucking wants is someone to love them. I’m not special. I’m not a girl who thinks her life can function without love. I’m a girl who knows that it can’t, and who knows that love isn’t a possibility, and who’s trying to fix a broken heart before it’s broken.

All I want is to be less lonely. I want someone to feel exactly the way I feel, which is absolutely ridiculous because nobody. feels the way I feel. I don’t even know what ‘the way I feel’ is. I want someone’s soul to match mine.

I can’t keep letting myself live in this facade of self dependence. I want someone to love me. There. I said it. I want someone to love me, and I know for a fact that that’s impossible.

Sorry for whining so much. I’m that one character in that one show whose brains you want to blow out, I know. I just don’t know where to put everything, so I’m putting it here.

Here. There. You take it. Maybe you’ll handle it better than me.