UrbanDecay13 , 20

So, on the outside, I seem like this really caring and thoughtful person who just wants to help. And I give 1000x more than I take. And while I might not always be the happiest person alive, and I might sometimes be a bit of a bitch, I'm super generous.

 

And most people would think that I'm just a really nice person. But the truth is, I give so much because I need someone, anyone, to need me. And if I can be that person that you turn to when you need something, then I feel needed and wanted. And I don't feel that way often.

 

So I let people use me, even when I know that they clearly don't really care, because having them use me makes me feel wanted for a little bit of time, even if it's false and fake and dumb.
 And with this sense of things, of my life and my self, it's easy to see how people become strippers, or prostitutes, or drug dealers. They're job is making people want them, is feeling needed.
I just wish I had someone who really needed me.
I'll probably make a great mother.

It's the fact that even on the best of nights I want him to know.
I want him to know anything. Everything.




It's just the fact that even if I jumped off a bridge and killed myself he wouldn't know. He'd never fucking know.
That's the pont.

"I pretend to be strong so maybe one day I will wake up and realize I am okay without you. That you aren’t the thunder or the blazing sun in August. You aren’t butterflies or a certain ten thousand songs or dark circles under sad eyes. And what I am really hoping you aren’t is spinning dizzying dances in moonlight and that special taste of freedom."



Some days are just so much harder than others. For no real reason in particular. But some days I just want to cry. All day. Some days are so reminiscent of others. And that's not fair. I can't compare this semester to last semester or this year to last year or this year to next year. But I do. And it hurts. It fucking hurts.
This time last year I was pretty delusional, I'm not gonna lie. But I was fucking confident. I thought I knew who I was. And it's really not even fair that I'm attributing my loss of self to one person. I shouldn't be able to attribute that to anyone but myself. And I guess, in reality, I really did lose myself, all on my own.
I handed my heart to someone who couldn't be trusted with it. I handed him my heart but I forgot to ask him not to break it. And that was my fault.


And this summer, my best friend says to me, "I like you better without a boyfriend."
And I know that that's only partially true.
What she really meant was, "I like you better when you're not fawning over boys who don't give a shit about you and who trample all over you. (And you just let them.)"
Of course, she didn't have to say all that. I got it. I get it.


Things are all just a mess sometimes.
And I realize that I wasn't in the best of places before I met Jonathan, but I had a firm grip on myself, and I was confident, and I was enjoying things.
And then I met Jonathan, and oh boy did I enjoy him. For about three weeks. And then things got real and he couldn't handle it and I broke down and we both fucked up and hence we are where we are today.
And of course that's only part of the story. Because he was DARING me to fall in love with him. He fucking knew it. It's not like he was saying "Christina, I can't do this, I don't want to be with you when you get home this summer. Or ever. And I don't really care about you and I want to trample on your heart."
He was trying his hardest to make me fall. And maybe that's what hurt the most. Was that he wasn't telling me no. He was saying yes right up until, and even after, he got another girlfriend.


I just know that my life would be so very different right now if I had never met him. And sure, I had my complaints about life before January 1, 2010, but nothing that compares to the burden I've had on my heart since that night. I'd go back in a heartbeat, and forget that any of this ever happened. Just to have my sanity back. Just to have my heart in one piece and my head in a better place.
It's just been so hard. And it's getting better. But I don't think I'll ever really be the person that I was before I met him. And that's sad. Just sad.




"For letting you decide if I indeed was desirable, for my self-love being so embarrassingly conditional, and for denying myself to somehow make us compatible, and for trying to fit a rectangle into a ball, to whom do I owe the biggest apology? No one's been crueller than I've been to me. I'm sorry to myself. My apologies begin here, before everybody else. I'm sorry to myself for treating me worse than I would anybody else."


I'm just so goddamn good at being used. I let people use me. For the specific purpose of letting them use me. There are probably over two dozen people in my life that if they really needed me, I would be there in a heartbeat. People that don't deserve it. People that have only ever used me for what I can offer. Not for me as a person. Of those two or three dozen people that I would drop everything for, probably only two of them would ever do the same for me. It's sad, really. In a very sad way, being used makes me feel good, alive, needed, respected, desirable.
And it's all just so sad. 

Well, sometimes you look in the mirror and you're not even looking at yourself anymore.
What do you do when you don't see yourself staring back at you?

I don't remember the last time that I looked in the mirror and loved who I saw.
Maybe I've never done that.
I'm so weak.
And maybe you'd never know that.
No, not even maybe. You really and actually would never know that I am weak.
My best friend saw me cry last summer and thought something was entirely and terribly wrong, because she could probably count on less than one hand the amount of times she'd seen me cry.

But I'm not strong.
I can't even bring myself to think the words that would cut the ties between me and all that holds me down.
Just formulating the thoughts is too much.

I say I don't want to play games. And maybe sort of I don't. But what I really mean is, I don't want to play your games. I want to play my games. I want to push and pull and make you want to stay. This isn't boys, this is friends, family, people I love.
Everyone I love.

And everyone I love is just so distant.
Hundreds of miles away, physically and emotionally, and I need them. But they've never needed me.

I'm dispensable, disposable, unnecessary, irrelevant.
Irrelevant. Not relevant.



And somehow, I'm lost.
And I've been lost for so long.


And I'm up at midnight pretending to have something to do because I want to wait up and pretend that Jonathan might call me or text me or send me smoke signals in the sky.
And he never will.
And I'm scared that if I ignore him and thoroughly as he ignores me that I'll never hear from him again.
And probably if that's the case then I'm better off without him.
But not giving up on anyone has always been my biggest flaw.



And sort of that's the worst part.
I know what the right thing is to do in this situation.
I need to tell him I can't do this anymore. But I can't text him all my feelings. It's something I have to do in person. But to do it in person means that he's giving me the time of day and actually talking to me, in which case I don't need to tell him I love him but I can't let him hurt me anymore because if he's talking to me then he's not hurting me.
He's a crazy intoxication that isn't healthy.
It's such a Catch-22.


And I'm just so fucking good at pushing away the people that I love.
It's the one thing that I seem to be best at in life and it's the only skill no one should ever want to have.


And I started writing this post so I could maybe get some clarity but I'm not closer than I was before.
I'm just a little fucked. 

"One of them squeezed my hand and told me I was going to be okay. 'I know,' I said, 'but if I'm not, that's okay, too.'"

Reveling in the unknown. Drowning in the simplicity. Dying to make this work. Knowing it's not what I wanted, every step of the way. Understanding that shit happens, circumstances change, and sometimes you're not settling, you're living your life the way you want it, and maybe that's the best you can hope for.