La fin
It is truly pathetic that I have allowed a break-up of a two-year relationship to reduce me to high school coping mechanisms.
Despite the realist in me, I am set on believing this is it. Despite my loathing of melodrama, I am set on believing this will be the last break-up I will ever allow myself to go through. This is not how I want to live the rest of my life, being pushed away by every single person for the exact same reasons. I am not going to live that way. I would rather just live alone, thank you.
It will silly of me, of all people, to believe I could be loved. I do not say this to reveal my self-hatred--which has already been evident in every journal entry I have written, I'm sure--but rather to reveal the reality of being someone with unforgivable flaws. I cannot provide someone with even the basic necessities. If I cannot even satisfy the basic needs for another human being, I am certainly unable to keep them around forever, or even for a long period of time. (No, I am not finished. You will hear all of the self-pity if you read on.) I am not good enough for even the most non-worthy person. A serial killer, a rapist, a murderer. It hurts me to write that but right now it feels very true and real to me. I have no faith left that I will fix myself. I am not going to lie any longer and tell people I am trying. I have, as of now, given up trying. There is nothing left to motivate me. I will just sit here and be this way until the day I die, which will be early because at this rate, I will give myself a heart-attack before age thirty. I will not end up happily ever after. I will not put anyone through this again. I will not even try. For the first time in my life, I will be able to call myself a quitter. I have never in my life given up on something I believed in, but I am being forced to do that now so I have no choice. I do not want to die, no. But this is going to be a most painful way of living.
I have allowed myself to reach unbelievable levels of subhuman. I have no idea how it got this far but it did. There are things that ordinary people do that scare the living shit out of me. Parties scare me. I will never be able to go to a party and enjoy myself. Being in public scares me. I am so self-conscious and the screaming in my head does not stop for even a moment. If anyone around me could hear what actually goes through my head, they would be terrified. If I actually wrote, right here, everything I have ever thought about myself... no one would be able to find the words to reply. It would strike a cord in you so violently that you would just have to walk away. And that is why I have lost everyone I have ever loved. I have forced them, unwilingly, to walk away. I scare people. I am a downer. I make them feel helpless. I am only ever some of what people need or want. Only some. With me, you constantly dream of greener pastures. You are constantly reminded you could be happier, more secure, more in love. Although, you will never be more loved by one human being than you are by me. And then there are those who believe I should be locked up. These are all feelings I can quote coming from the mouths of past loves, even current ones. Almost every single one. That is no way to live. I would rather go without. Love is far more trouble than it is worth. Someone always gets the short end of the stick. If it happens enough times, you will eventually just give up. I have reached my breaking point. I am done with short ends and wearing threads.
I am through making myself vulnerable to the point of making myself sick. I will never again put myself out there enough to be hurt this badly. I was aware of how far I was going, how much I was doing. But I did not care, at the time or even now, because that is how I love. I have never provided someone with a filmsy, false love. Never have I been unfaithful. Never have I not given it my all. Never have I not been utterly loyal. Never have I not been dealthy dedicated. Completely and utterly dedicated. I have made many, many mistakes, but I have never been any of the things in the list above. It is ironic, but those are the things I would appreciate most in another person: faithfulness, loyalty and dedication. These things, however, are not enough. Not from me.
I am through pretending I will get off of this self-destructive path. I should learn to embrace it, somehow. It makes me sad, it does. I am not sitting here thinking this is the way it should be. I do wish I felt I deserved people, things, happiness. But I just do not. Every time I able to fool myself long enough, it ends up an even bigger mess. I cannot be everything anyone wants or needs. I never used to think that was possible but apparently it is. Apparently there are people who can live up to everything someone else has ever wanted. I wish I could be one of those people. I do. I wish I could be enough for just one person. One specific person, of course, but one person nonetheless. I do not want to die without feeling like I have been the best person for someone else. I have never even gotten close to feeling that way. I never realized how great a fear it was until tonight.
On a daily basis I am reminded that I am not good enough for things like love. I am told by the people who supposedly love me most. I toyed with the idea that I was just really messed up and had a very bad self-esteem, but after twenty one years I am continuously being told the exact same things by vast amounts of people. Peopel who know me well, people who barely know me at all. How can there be no truth to what they say?
There will be no grand gestures this time around. I have crawled on my knees enough. I have rationed, reasoned, pleaded. I am finished with that now. I am out of energy. I am out of ideas. I am too tired to fight for anything. If I can give up writing, I can give up the only other greatest thing I have ever loved.
Previous times, I never did begin to write this entry because I had hope. I suppose seeing this entry now says something.
This is the end. Despite all of the previous non-ends, this is truly the real and final end.
This feeling of desperation is what makes people pray. I do understand why people pray. I almost wish I could. I have never in my life felt this weak.