I’m Broken

“I wanted you to know… That I love the way you laugh. I wanna hold you high and steal your pain… away. I keep your photograph I know it serves me well… I wanna hold you high and steal your pain.. Because I’m broken when I’m lonesome and i don’t feel right when you’re gone…”

Hey folks… Well I did it. Finally gave in accepted some truths about myself, got some medication. Finally had to admit to someone else what I’ve always known. It’s something I’ve managed to hold at bay with alcohol, drugs and pointless, meaningless relationships. It’s the darkness that has always been within me. The dark, horrible self loathing that always
whispers doubt into my mind. That no one could love me, because I am unable to find a way to love myself.

“I’m broken when I’m open… And I don’t feel like I am strong enough”

So the meds are necessary. Because I’ve always suspected that I’m broken on the inside. Nothing makes the loneliness any easier. Nothing makes me feel comfortable in meeting new people. Having personal relationships through impersonal forms (Internet, text messaging, IM) is safer but also contributes to me feeling alone. I’m tired of surviving. I feel misunderstood, a little bitter and lonely. Can never have the things I want most. And I feel stupid for daring to want something better for myself. Because things happen if you make them happen. And I am not even able to break these chains that have held me down for so long. No wonder i feel like such a failure.

Fuck this drama. Fuck feeling unable to connect, fuck being agoraphobic. I feel like I’m staring into a broken mirror. Looking into my own eyes through broken glass, and it’s how I see myself. Broken, incomplete, empty. How could anyone learn to see all the good in me, if I’m unable to see them in myself. Everyone I’ve ever gotten close to, both platonically and otherwise has served some purpose, found something in me to use. Wether it be my ability to listen, to understand pain, to single-mindedly focus on someone elses problems, or just in how I fuck. It’s what I’m good for I suppose. Girls are not the answer right now. And all I do is attract crazies, or girls looking for a night of drunken passion. I don’t want to be all obsessive. But as always my mind always drifts back to “her” and as much as it gives me strength, it also reminds me how she makes me feel more alone than anyone else. More than my
parents, more than my failures. Because she sees the real me, peers into my very soul and still rejects me. So I’m going to try and move on. I don’t think I ever will be able to but I have to try.

She’s always been the one constant. But it’s time for a change. But the worst part is, if she asked me I’d do anything and everything. I’d move the heavens. I’d punch a hole in the moon for her. I would tear out my still beating heart and present it to her with these words. “My love is in here… Take it.” And then I’d fall over and die. Someone just fucking kill me. I don’t know if I can live like this. I cannot live without her. As much as I am left floating in her wake, she inspires creativity, passion, unrealistic and endless longing… as much as she breaks down all my walls and masks, as real as she makes me feel… She is a ghost to me. I’ll never be able to hold her, never be enough to make her happy. It’s like the most lonely, most exquisite mind fuck ever. So have to move on. Or at least try to. For my own sake.

“You’ve gone away… You don’t feel me here… Anymore.”

Pardon the music quotes. It’s my refuge you see, a more healthy way to express my emotions. I live through the music.

I’ll try really hard to find something positive to write about next time. But as is always the case with me… No promises.

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