|
|
|
| Is H trying to steal my identity? And Should I Let Her? |
I didn't know what to say today.
I didn't know what to say yesterday.
I'm pretty sure I won't know what to say tomorrow.
I've come to realize one thing about H. She's either a lying, backstabbing bitch or she's desperately lonely and afraid. Either way she better not have been lying to Cody about an 'ex' she had but lost. If she's playing that game after I've hinted about Trent...I swear to a god I don't trust that I will kill her.
I've had this feeling before with her. I sometimes feel like she's taking bits and pieces of my life to make herself more interesting but she has no idea how fucked up I am.
If I could go back and become the sane, healthy, restful person I was 8 years ago I would.
She has no idea what it's like to stay awake all night because of insomnia and fear of closing her eyes because she often imagines Trent lying on his floor with a gunshot through his head. She had no idea what it's like to crave that empty feeling in her stomach. And she has no idea what it's like to feel so numb, apathetic, and deathly that she truly questions why she is on this earth at all. She has no idea what it's like covering up these secrets from the ones I'm closest to (namely my mother).
Her life isn't perfect and I know this. I'm not trying to be self-pitying either.
Still, I don't think she can ever understand what it's like to be mired in depression for half of your life. I don't think she can truly understand why I get so upset when she claws her arms with safety pins. I don't think that she understands what it's like to wonder about life on such a painfully deep level every waking minute of your life. I don't think she would want to understand what it's like to look out at friends who smile and mean it. My smile is fake, an act. I haven't smiled for real in years. I don't think she can understand this. And I don't want her to understand it. Why does she want to be so depressed about everything?
I would give anything to be happy again.
Note: Don't come and tell me to quit airing my problems out. You don't have to read this. No one put a gun to your head and said read motherfucker. This is how I deal with my problems. This is one step of many of my problems becoming my art. So if you don't like it, fuck off.
Blog Category: Friends
Playing (Music): The New York Dolls
Current mood: pissed off
Added on: 08/05/2008 19:58:34
|
|
Back to user′s blog main page
|
|
|
|
|
|
Only members can place comments. Please, login or register, if you want to submit a comment.
|
|
|
|
You are always welcome to link to this page:
http://punkrock.org/blog/show_single_post/3983.html
|
|
|
|
|
 |