I do not understand your love. It is not one of a companion. I do not want someone just to have fun with. Sure, fun is nice. But what about serious things? Cannot party cancer away. Or chron’s disease or the pain that I feel every day. I actually didn’t feel it while drunk on my birthday. So your solution is half right in the short run. But if I do have chron’s or an ulcer (which is a probability due to the pain/stress that I have) drinking will ultimately make it worse before better. I find the fact that I had the most fun with you while intoxicated saddening. Not because of the pain, etc. But because why do I have to drink for you to be fun? Is that why you drink/smoke with your friends? Can they really be that fun? Fanny and Moni are great. They have kind, nice souls. The rest can burn in hell for all I give a shit. Kevin is nice. I don’t believe Frank didn’t remember my birthday night. I think he is mad at me for what I said to a guy in a car who almost hit us on the way to McDonald’s. Not my best moment. I guess drinking does bring out the best and worst.
Maybe someday you’ll realize what you lost. Not a jealous, pain-in-the-ass girlfriend. But someone who truly loved you for you. Your big ears, your body. Maybe not your arrogant attitude towards my feelings. But I accepted you. Whether you believe it or not. I loved you. Maybe even still love. But maybe it’s time to lose you and focus on me again. I hate to quote Tupac at this serious time, but it’s me against the world. It always has been. Except for the few people who understood me from the start: Noel, Gab, maybe my Mom and my Dad. I’ve always had to explain myself or lie for people to accept me, (“Oh, I’m just tired today)– when I don’t feel like smiling.
I don’t see my outside self as beautiful but people seem to think being young and beautiful is the answer to everything. Or the color of my hair. How do either stop me from feeling what I feel? Those who have never felt the numbing of depression should shut the fuck up and not tell me not to feel. I will feel my emotions. I will cry when I’m sad.
This does not make me less than as a person. It makes me human. Not sensitive to people. But emotional and receptive to life. My emotions are my canvas/art. Welp just lost you with that one. What does that even mean right? No, I do not create my emotions. They flow from me like paint to a canvas. But you wouldn’t know that. Too illogical for you I guess. Couldn’t even finish a sculpture class, probably the most logical art out of all. Seems like you make a lot of excuses for you. But what about me? I give you everything that I think you would want, including attention. (Sorry your dick is not in my mouth constantly but I have class bud). And it is not good enough. You call me the difficult one but we could literally go to a store any day and find me a present. What about you? No, you want that or that. Who knows what that is. Only you. Because you talk all day long about nonsense to hide what you’re really feeling. But you barely communicate. When I speak, I have important shit to say. But that’s too hard for you to deal with. The important stuff. Life. My literal body in pain.
Sorry I say goodnight too many nights in a row… too monotonous for you? Too much stress having to remember to contact someone you love? Wow, you’re a different sort of asshole. You analyze everything all day except for yourself. Analyze this motherfucker. I love you. But I love me more. If this does not open your eyes. They were never open to begin with.