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| [37] Always, ForeverI feel like I'm breaking, ripping apart from the inside, slowly falling to pieces. I don't know how to make it stop.
I want to hurt myself. Passing cars, I want to cause an accident. Walking, I want to hurl myself into traffic. Part of me is afraid to be left alone. Part of me surveys each room I enter for potentially dangerous instruments of release. I could drown in the bathroom. I could fall from the roof. Knives in the kitchen. Razors on the counter. Pills in cabinets and plenty of fabric, twine, and wire to adorn my neck.
But I can't. Because I'm "strong". Because I actually do not want to give up.
I just don't know how to deal with all of the anger in me.
I want to destroy every last happy thing around me.
I can't ask for help. I can't ask to be saved. All I have is myself. And I hate that person more than anything.
Times are hard, folks. But the Ages grow distant more quickly than can be imagined.
Tomorrow is everything. And I'll be there for it.
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| [36] Turn around, Bright EyesNothing that hasn't been said before. I'll be different, starting today, blah blah blah.
Except, crazy notion, what if I mean it this time? Eh? EH?
We'll see how it goes. Every now and then I fall apart.
But it won't be like before. | | |
| [35] --------------I never want to eat anything ever again.
I never want to think about the things I'll never be.
I never want to have to see myself in a mirror or be able to look down at a body covered in too much flesh.
I never want to shed another tear due to my own neurotic misery.
I never want to be reminded of how much better it must have been before.
I never want to feel my jaw lock up or my eyebrows furrow.
I never want to have that tension creep throughout my entire being, winding me up inside and out.
I want to be empty, but I never want to disappear.
I never want to wake up alone.
I never want to hear your voice trying to comfort me.
I never want to see your eyes betraying you without your knowledge - under that soft tone, you don't really care.
I never want you to look at me again.
I never want to disappoint you.
I think I understand why people stay single, why they sleep around and don't take relationships seriously. It's probably so much easier. I don't know first hand, but they probably miss out on so much, both good and bad. I don't know which is worse. Is easier better? I don't think I want to know.
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| [34] And if I were a field, you would be in clover.Whenever she opens her mouth, you forget I exist for a moment. Whenever she glances your way, you know you could be captured by those eyes. If she were to reach out to you, your fingers would unlace themselves from mine without hesitation. Her smile is intoxicating. Her laughter is infectious. Her body makes you blush whenever she comes within a few yards of you. She makes all of the things you've ever said into the lies I told you they would be.
Goodbye.
I'm tired of being boring, plain, uninteresting Sarah. I'm sick of feeling like I can't do anything right, like I'm useless, like I'm good for nothing.
Hard work. No hair, no haircut. Repairs, reductions, and restarts all happen beginning today.
To someone, someday, I'll be that girl.
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| [33] And I, I've got to have my way now, baby"Love is a blind whore with mental disease and no sense of humour."
Seconded.
Jet-setting traveler. Master of languages and cultures abound. Loyal friend of many, unforgettable encounter of more, whirlwind lover of the fortunate. That was going to be me. Success left and right in the form of money and recognition. An exciting adventure of a life.
And then, at nineteen years of age, I contracted a fatal virus. I fell in love. Now every day is a struggle between the things I desire: would I rather have that life described beforehand (sans excess lovers, if the man who has my heart can really handle my absence the way he seems to imagine he can)? Or is there a greater longing in me to stay close to my heart and build a home around it? Do I even deserve that home when I cannot come out and say the few, simple words I refuse to allow escape? If I can't be honest, if I can't say what it is I would love to share with this person who has become so special in such a short time, then why worry about it?
A life that could potentially be alone, giving up or at least putting unnecessary strain upon something which is incredibly rare in this day and age. Or a life that could potentially leave me unsatisfied and wondering about the world outside of my safe abode.
At the age a of nineteen, I once again am faced with indecision.
Balls.
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