A person no longer
I regret it. I regret opening my mouth, saying it and I hate hate hate the way it sounded, sounds, so final and harsh and disgusting and true. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, and I hate the way you see me now. Now, I am no longer Me. No, I can't get into your head, but I thought I knew you, and in that hypothetical knowledge was me. Crazy me, a me who was moody and pissy and flew off the handle for no good reason and made accusations that were dumb and Me who would cry so loud and long out of nowhere and Me with my morbid questions and topics of conversation and Me, who dances bad and sings bad but loves doing both, but it was ok because I knew that somewhere in the depths of all my bad qualities there was someone who you loved as Me, for whatever reason. Now, it's That and That is all I am, That is all you see when you look at me and That is all you think when you think of me and That is what I never wanted to be and now It is all I have become. I hate it, and now I hate myself because now it's all I am because once i emitted the words, it officially became a part of me. It is finalized, crystalized and preserved for the world to judge and hate just like I judge and hate and I never want it. I want the other, I want the life I can't have, it looks beautiful and natural and the way things should be. I don't even like the idea of what I am, it's not at all tempting or attractive, so it's confusing. I wish I could explain, but I can't because I can barely say the words. I have bared my soul, and it turns out there was nothing there.