put me through hell.
I don't know why the fuck I bother most of the time. fuck. years and years have fucking given me more than enough proof that I can try my best, and I'll always manage to fuck shit up. It's fucking amazing when your family, as well as your closest friends, have spent their time picking you apart, top to bottom, making you feel like anything you have is something you're NOT worthy of having. everything i fucking have, i got myself. i haven't asked my parent for anything, and it doesn't even matter; they aren't proud of me. they aren't grateful by the fact that i'd do ANYTHING for them.
what's worse is that i'm apparently the world's most awful friend.
i don't even care about that. i care that i can't fucking get this right.
i want to. i want to be something that works for him, and that is making his life better, but i'm not. and he's realizing it. no matter how much i love him, or how much i care about him, the problem lies within myself. i've single-handedly fucked up every important relationship (romantic, or not) in my life. i have let this tear me apart, fucking piece by piece until i'm left with what i have now, which is some fucking skeleton of a human being. i don't have the normal things that a person comes with; i don't remember what it's like to be genuinely happy. every little thing that makes me happy leaves half of my brain constantly analyzing it with THE most cynical outlook. i'm picking everything, and everyone apart.
i've successfully lost several friends in the past year. i know that they all had VERY valid reasons for leaving, and i can't blame them in the least for anything. i just wish it wasn't true. i wish i could just let things be. i wish that every single time something mattered to me, i didn't start acting fucking STUPID. i have never held onto something. i always find a reason to believe that i do not deserve it, in any form, and i try to rid myself of it as soon as possible. i think it's just an instinct i've had since i was younger.. and first started having signs of depression. it's like, if i stay far away from everything that could matter, if the time came, i'd have an easier time letting go. it's awful that i think that way.
i want to let myself get close to him. i want to not try to find a way to let it go. i want to trust him, and have him trust me. i don't want to argue. i don't want to keep feeling like he's going to fucking hate me for who i am, or what i am. i don't want to be scared. i want to just be happy.. and fucking be able to marvel in the fact that i fucking love someone again. that someone can give me butterflies, and make me laugh so much that i cry. i just want to tear the part of me away that prevents that from happening. i love him too much to let this ruin us.
"but, NOTHING in the world could possibly turn me away from caring about you."