(no subject)
I need someone that I choose to devote my life to. Not someone who wants to devote their time and/or money to me. I need a partner, a friend, more than I need a boyfriend. I need someone who will just be there for me when i need them, not someone attached to my leg in a goddamn humping motion. I need someone who can get me out of a bind, not someone to buy me shit I don't need or could live without. I need someone who will care for me and be there for me, in spite of month to four-month long periods and constant moodswings due to my being bipolar and a little schizophrenic. I need someone who will understand that I need my space and that sometimes I just don't want to be touched. Sometimes, I CAN'T be touched. Sometimes I'm afraid of people. Sometimes I'm afraid of myself.
None of them ever seemed to GET that.
None of them.
I know I'm a pain when I get into a down-swing. I can't help it. I don't like being touched. I don't like being man-handled.
Fuck...I don't like that when I'm NOT in a down-swing.
I don't like my crotch being randomly grabbed when I'm trying to watch a movie when I'm on my goddamn RAG, you MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH. SHIT, I don't like my crotch being grabbed AT ALL. I don't like my breasts being played with like toys, FUCKER. I don't like it when you leave three or four hickies on my goddamn neck where my FATHER and the WHOLE WORLD can see them unless I wear a different turtleneck everyday until they go away, BASTARD. I hate being told what to do by someone who's IQ is lower than my literally DUMB BLONDE SIXTEEN YEAR OLD SISTER, YOU ASSHAT. I don't like it when someone pulls my hair while trying to get my fucking CLOTHES OFF, you PIECE OF SHIT. I FUCKING HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!! I. HATE. YOU!!!!!
....Why couldn't I just SAY all those things? Why did I feel like I had to keep it all inside? Why was I so stupid?
Why can't I just...shut myself off? Shut off all need and want and emotion and desire and everything...
Just shut me off and fix me.
I'm obsolete.
I fucking hate you, Jeff.
And it looks like I always have.
Bastard.
I hate you...
None of them ever seemed to GET that.
None of them.
I know I'm a pain when I get into a down-swing. I can't help it. I don't like being touched. I don't like being man-handled.
Fuck...I don't like that when I'm NOT in a down-swing.
I don't like my crotch being randomly grabbed when I'm trying to watch a movie when I'm on my goddamn RAG, you MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH. SHIT, I don't like my crotch being grabbed AT ALL. I don't like my breasts being played with like toys, FUCKER. I don't like it when you leave three or four hickies on my goddamn neck where my FATHER and the WHOLE WORLD can see them unless I wear a different turtleneck everyday until they go away, BASTARD. I hate being told what to do by someone who's IQ is lower than my literally DUMB BLONDE SIXTEEN YEAR OLD SISTER, YOU ASSHAT. I don't like it when someone pulls my hair while trying to get my fucking CLOTHES OFF, you PIECE OF SHIT. I FUCKING HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!! I. HATE. YOU!!!!!
....Why couldn't I just SAY all those things? Why did I feel like I had to keep it all inside? Why was I so stupid?
Why can't I just...shut myself off? Shut off all need and want and emotion and desire and everything...
Just shut me off and fix me.
I'm obsolete.
I fucking hate you, Jeff.
And it looks like I always have.
Bastard.
I hate you...