079. ain’t no sunshine.


I am being pulled in too many directions be be of use in anything big.

My life is perfect.

I want to take that gun and shove it in my mouth, watch the horror on their faces, and then relax. Even if I burn for it. Rest, true silence sounds like bliss.

No, it was nothing you said. And it was. Know that I love you both sososososo much and should the choice truly come down, I would pick you, no matter how much I never want to pick because you have repaired me more than you have broken me and I don’t break as much around you because I love you so much, both of you. Saturday will still be fun, I’m just not right today, and I’m sorry I acted like a whiny brat-child. I know you don’t like them. The dead horse has been beaten enough. Frankly, I have no clue why I like them at this point either. All they make me feel is like a guilty shit. I am “not trusting” her. I am “abandoning the group”. I am not “playing” with everyone enough. But I do love them as friends and there are so many amazing moment and strange connections and laughter and that strange charisma that I am hooked to- they are my friends. And they do stupid shit and I don’t like the way they treat either of you but I still like them.

And you. I am done. I am fucked up too. I am not going to pander to sulky little fits- if you won’t talk to me, you won’t talk to me. If you won’t let me in your prom pictures or hate me now or whatever, feel free. You want to know how I feel about you? I feel frustrated. I still wish desperately that there was some magical thing I could do to make everything a-okay, and I wish that you didn’t hate me because I still love hanging around you, as little as I have as of late. I think that you need to open yourself up to speech more, or maybe I do; I doubt I will be able to say this to your face, because I fear losing your friendship even as I tear myself trying to keep up.

Really, the issue is not with ‘the group’. The two other girls understand me, independent of you. They understand that I refuse to chose between friendships even as I chose to go to dinner somewhere where both my date and I can have fun, talk and laugh and not feel like one or the other is forced to be there. Hell, they understand that whatever they think of him, I love him. I don’t care what you think. I hate the way you act around him and the way you treat him and my closest friend, even if I’ve managed to get you not to say shit around me, I know you still do, and it pisses me off and I wish I wasn’t so attached to you, I wish I didn’t know how amazing you are, so I could just write you off. But, don’t you see? I’m not writing you off. I’m trying to figure out how I can still be a friend to you without killing myself or betraying someone. If you chose to leave me, kick me out, then fucking do it. It will hurt. it will hurt a lot. But then I’ll have more time to work on grades, work on my life, be with my family.

And oh. My family. I am so sorry. You have a failure of a daughter- the first to fail a class, the firstborn who hardly sees you anymore. I am home, I live with you and ten minutes from you, and yet now the only time I see either of you is when I get rides. I miss my mommy and my daddy and I have been struck in the face, how fragile, how mortal you are, and how precious the time I spend with you is, and mommy, mommy, I haven’t spent any more than half an hour with you this whole week and I miss you. Daddy, you are working yourself to the bone and I love you and I haven’t been telling you or showing you or spending time with you but I love you and value you and why am I wasting this? I am an idiot. An idiot who loves you with every distracted fiber.

If any more of my family dies, I will break. It is that simple. I love you all more than I can ever say, and yet, here I am, fucking up and worrying about trivial things like fucking dinner arrangements when I don’t even know if the medicine is working, if you are still blind or if the steroids have done another stupid thing to your body, and I don’t know how he is doing with his commanding officer or if her cancer really is in remission or why she needs a car or how the new baby is doing or the older babies, I don’t know if you need surgery for the shit that you are going through or if you have fallen deeper into drink or if your surgery that gutted you, gutting you like an animal, I don’t know how you are coping and how are you coping with Aunt Bobbie’s death, everyone? It was her birthday and Uncle David, I didn’t see you cry but your hug hurt with sad and my mommy hugs sad and we are moving on but it doesn’t mean it hurts less.

Oh. Then, there is you, love. Frankly, I don’t even know how you still love me, the fucked up child that I am. I am not worth anything you give me, and you are beyond any measurement I could ever dare conceive. I love you. I love you I love you I love you. I’m sorry that a fucked up little reject-doll fell in love with you, because you do deserve more. You deserve someone who is smart and pretty and doesn’t fall apart twitching and isn’t so divided by different friends. You deserve someone who can be there for you, who you don’t have to put together, who you don’t have to watch fall apart and scream and cry.

I shouldn’t post this. It’s rambly and emotional and exaggerating and I hurt. I hurt for no reason and every reason and I will smile and be fine and maybe tomorrow I won’t have to invent a bullshit excuse like backpain, maybe I’ll just cry and cry like I am now, and life should be moving on but when the people around you tug and tug and don’t even realize I am fracturing more quickly everyday.

I don’t want sympathy or pity I want everything to move slowlyslowly and I want to be able to handle this shit again and not hurthurthurt because I am burning and freezing and tearing and shattering and I will be fine later but I don’t want to exist or be or live or anything because I don’t know if I’m strong enough for even the stupid drama of a black-and-white fucking theme. We followed it. You hate us anyway, and he doesn’t care but I love you guys and that hurts too and I want this to be the only drama because I can deal with things like prom and homework. I can’t do death and pain anymore. No more.

No more.


2 Responses to “079. ain’t no sunshine.”

  1. 1 raalla


  2. 2 Katling

    *hugs* (I know a good idea when I see it)

    You ever need anyone to listen, you give me a call, got it?

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