(no subject)
There's nights when I'm flying down I-75 at ninety miles an hour and the trees lit up by road sign lights are really catching my eye. Jenny Lewis softly humming under the sound of laid back and completely open and willing conversation. You'd think this drive would put me at ease. You'd think coming home would make me feel better. Flying past the road signs to Tampa and better is just not what I feel. Maybe it's childish, maybe it's stupid, but every single second of every day it's in the back of my mind. How intangible and awfully morose everything all is. Cynical. Spiteful. Not at all understanding or loving. Such a peaceful night time drive literally racks my brain of all thoughts of you and I hate it. No one sees it which is the saddest part. No one could ever see or understand the sadness I feel when I'm alone -- brooding inside my head. It's my fault, I say. My fault. My worthlessness. My fucked up thoughts pushing people away as always. It's what I do. I'm not entirely sure if the fear or worry behind my eyes is apparent but it's existent. You're right. I want to give up and crawl into bed and go to sleep forever. Maybe that's stupid but I find it so difficult to even get out of bed sometimes. There's nights when I'm speeding down the interstate and it's supposed to be peaceful and exciting. But it's not. Because home just reminds me of you. Being in my own bedroom reminds me of you. Driving down 34th street reminds me of you. Just seeing the "St Petersburg City Limits" sign reminds me all of you. And I want it to go away. I want someone to finally see the sadness I feel behind closed doors and foggy windows and soaking wet cheeks. People just think I'm sad every now and then, but it's a complete and overwhelming state of mind that I'm constantly living in. Something constant and unable to be released. And I just want someone to see. I want you to see. I want someone or you to see how I literally scream and cry and have to hold my ribs because they're in so much pain from how much I've been weeping. Maybe that's stupid or foolish, but I can't do anything else. I'll weep for you until I no longer feel the need to do so. I weep and weep and cry and sob and you never shed a single tear. So what am I so sad about? I'm in love with someone who makes me feel worthless, stupid, ugly, and bad. I'll do anything for you. I'll call myself all these awful things as long as it means you'll feel better and won't be upset with me. And that isn't right. It isn't right and I want someone to come and take it all away.