I remember back to what it was like... back when I wasn't so alone, or so miserable. Back when I didn't have to run so fucking hard from who I was as a human being. Back when I didn't have to fight so hard to forget the things that make me want to die every time I open my eyes in the morning.
I want so badly to cry, but I don't feel strong enough to do so. I feel exhausted to the point where I feel as though a fell wind might carry my ashes into the nether; never to be seen again. That wind wouldn't even need to be a gale, perhaps not even a warm gust of wind in an autumn afternoon... no, even a breath from her would scatter everything, breaking it all irreparably.
I want so badly to feel loved... but not by all the usual suspects that do it already. I don't want to be loved by the lonely and the rejected. I don't want to be loved by the ignorant or the foolish. I don't want to be loved by the disfigured or the forgotten.
What I long for so badly is to be loved by someone who is loved. I don't want any sappy romance... I just want to feel her breath on my cheek and our legs as tangled as our hearts. I want to feel the tension between us again because for the few moments between when she showed up and when she left, I felt alive.
It's hard remaining alive when you feel so alone around the people you're surrounded by. It's hard not looking in the other room at the boxes of parabellum ammo. Imagining a loud noise, a flash of light and then quiet.
There's something to be said about people who are well liked killing themselves... they always look to mental illness as the cause. But that's just the problem, I'm not ill. I'm not sick. Why not look at society as the cause? Why not look at the general indifference that is omnipotent in modern society? If you're bleeding on the sidewalk, people will step over you or spit on you for being in their way rather than help you. We wage wars of ideology where we argue about how little we want to support the people that need the most help. How somewhow being in a low tax bracket makes you a lowlife...
We look down our noses at those who aren't like us... we judge so quickly based on absolutely nothing. The weight of my hypocrisy is unbearable to me... I want so badly to be someone else most of the time. Even if it's someone with less of a heart.
I feel like the younger me is coming back to life and this dying body wants nothing more than to extinguish that flame, that passion. I feel like over time I'm strangling myself, and like nothing can make it better. If I could disappear forever and leave none of you hurt, I would. I swear I would.
More writing, and eventually sleep... finals soon, no rest for the wicked.