Ms. Flowers. She taught me one of the most important quotes I’ve ever learned in my life, and I’ve never heard anywhere else- “The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.” It really shaped who I am as a woman and kept me out of so many useless revenge holes I watch my friends dig for themselves. I can’t thank her enough for that. In such an angry world, I hold on to that calm for dear life.
It always takes me a few days to get back to normal after talking to him. I never feel it in the moment. It always takes a few days for it to all come rushing back. He took away the last bit of energy I had to give. The last of my light. And now, I don’t have the energy left to be a person anyone I would want to be with, would want to love back. Rightfully so. I know I have worth. But f*ck, am I exhausted. Thankfully I’m getting so good at dissociating, it’s become a marketable skill. I’ll begrudgingly make it on my own. I am angry about so many things he did, but more than anything? I am just sad for me. Now, I have a wall up no man would ever want to fight through without some underlying ‘fixing a project’ or ‘conquering the unconquerable’ complex. So now, I go back to living every day pretending I’m not just waiting for it to be over. Watching the clock on my kitchen microwave move forward, waiting until it’s socially acceptable enough to get back in bed, knowing I won’t fall asleep for hours, if I do at all. Trying to pull more than the absolute bare minimum of will power to function out of my as$, knowing I never really will for more than maybe a day or two. And I sit on my couch, paralyzed, only realizing decades are going by, after they’re already gone. And if I get to live any of the rest of my life with someone? If I get to have someone there to give me a hug when I need it? I’ll be settling. And so will they. And that just really hurts to think about.
Sad people constantly tell themselves they’ll die alone, but it isn’t real. There’s that little voice in the back of your head, telling you to have faith in someone new. You try so hard to keep that excitement buried and wallow in your misery, but it’s there. The chance that this time, it could be better. I hope that little ray of light is still shining for you. I hope you get your “better.” I just exhausted that chance spending almost 2 years waiting for hope that never came. It’s real now. It’s really just me. Where do you go from here. How long can someone coast through life before they come to a complete stop. And what happens then.
It always takes me a few days to get back to normal after talking to you. I never feel it in the moment. It seems so normal. It always takes a few days for it to all come rushing back. And then I cry. Not for long, but I cry. I think about how you took away the last little bit of energy I had to give. The last of my light. And now I don’t have enough energy to be a person anyone I would want to be with, would want to love. I’m getting so good at dissociating, it’s a marketable skill. I’ll begrudgingly make it on my own. I am angry at you for so many things… but more than anything? I am just sad for me. You know better than anyone that the intrigue wears off quick once you see my core. Once I start challenging you. Once you start to understand the darkness I am constantly fighting. I’m a novelty. And now, I have a wall up no sensible man would ever want to fight through. Rightfully so. So now, I go back to the life of living every day pretending I’m not just waiting for it to be over. Trying to pull more than the absolute bare minimum of will power to function out of my ass, knowing I never really will for more than maybe a day. Perpetually drowning myself in a sea of inescapable failure. And I sit on my couch, paralyzed, only realizing decades are going by, after they’re already gone. And if I get to live any of the rest of my life with someone? If I get to have someone there to give me a hug when I need it? I’ll be settling. And so will they. And that just really hurts to think about.
I have lived alone for multiple years of my life and girl… it is bomb. No pants? No problem. Talking to yourself and/or pet? No judgement. Expectations? Absolutely none. Nobody is there to suppress who you are. Whether we like it or not, we act different when people are around. And if you can get out of your own head, start focusing on the benefits of having your own space and being able to manage it however you feel like that day, it starts to feel really freeing really quickly. Yeah, I have days where I cry thinking about the fact that I’m dying alone. But really, who the fuck cares? I shouldn’t care. Humans are trash. Why waste my time waiting for something that will never come? Frankly I don’t have that kind of sanity to spare. I try to think about things as objectively as possible, and when I think about my life and making the most out of my time when I’m so dysfunctional as it is… I’m not gonna waste any of my energy wallowing in something I can’t control. I can’t pull prince charming out of my ass. All I’m going to focus on is existing the best I fucking can in my own way. And as long as I’m doing the absolute bare minimum in terms of housekeeping, and taking good care of my dog, and occasionally myself on a good day… that’s the kind of lost I choose to be. Be kinder to yourself. You can choose to do that. It doesn’t magically fix your depression or make you fulfilled and happy. But it’s a realistic goal that it very within reach for all of us. And if you’re gonna be lost, which most of us are nowadays, you might as well make things easier on yourself.
Choose to see the black and white picture they paint. Don’t mix grays yourself. It isn’t real.
Don’t waste your life waiting for hope that never comes.
I fucked up. Bad this time. My now ex-boyfriend was just arrested on my front porch for felony theft. A woman he dealt drugs to died of an overdose. I want to write it all out, but if I ever read this in the future, I’d rather forget. Just remember that your gut is never wrong. Read that again and repeat it to yourself every day for the rest of your life. Your gut. Is never wrong. You just wasted almost 2 years of your life on a dumpster fire. Just be alone. We’ll stick to the original plan.
(via wanderlustwithme)
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