It seems like realisation is dripping through slowly, there is a leak somewhere. Because everything that has happened is suffocated somewhat, hiding or hidden, building up pressure in that place somewhere or other. I'm not sure why it is like this, why things are this way. I know I am angry with you, with too many people; just as I know it is there, but I can't seem to feel it now, I want to let you know how much you've hurt me, because this way I won't, and it'll get worse.
It's frustrating because I know that there is something there, I know that I can't get to this, and worst of all it's building up to another way of hurting you & me, although I'm guessing it won't seem like that. It never does. But I want to, if I'll hurt you, I want to be hurt too. Mainly I want to show you just what this means, and why things are this way. I'm looking for all these small, smart, pretty ways to punish myself for this, nothing seems to be working yet. I wonder when these bruises will start to show on my stomach, I want to find out if it does any damage. I don't think I am arrogant enough to ask why this could happen to me. I don't remember exactly why I deserve it, though I know well enough that I do. Just because nothing I do quite makes sense. I think I made a mistake, that we are too similar. It was all very well us being the same, I was relying on you to make this better, to be able to cope with this and you're just as scared as I am. Although I find out now that I was just climbing down from the pedestal you gave me, that you let me stay on sometimes. And I wish I could tell you how much this hurts, and how much I hate you for it; how much, consequently, I love you. And everything has caved in again, like with all those other people I fell in love with for days, or months, or however long. What makes it hurt most of all is that I know this is my fault, it is and I have to stop this. The only problem is, I can't really see what is wrong, I can't see any other way of doing things. I just wish there was someway to make you see this like I do, to make it all seem as plausible. You don't hold back from telling me I'm pathetic, I can't work any other way at the moment. I want to hit you, and scream at you. I want you to hit me, scream at me. I want to cry, and I want to know the truth. I want to know why I can't work around people, why I will never do the right things, and I can't show you that yes, I do actually care. Because hearing these things is like being punched in the stomach. I wish I would break more than anything right now, feeling so ugly and ungainly; you make me feel worthless, but then is it difficult? Not when it is me. I wonder do I do the same as you? I expect I do. Don't expect me to know, I can't piece this together. That is the reason I give for this being awful, and unintelligable.
I was never anyfuckingwhere close.
Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending: