Nov 23, 2003 01:01
You don't deserve my love, affection or poor, precious body.
You don't deserve my care packages before business trips with your favorite candy, magazines and a copy of my favorite book, all bundled inside a shoebox which I covered with pictures from magazines, as well as one of the only current pictures of myself in circulation. Did you even think twice before you ate the candy and threw away the box?
It's not your fault; you didn't know that I would give you so much of myself. In fact, you still don't know how much of me you took and continue to take, every day, even before I wake.
Everyone tells me to get out, but I can't get out of something that I'm not even in. I can't get out and I can't get in. I don't like to be in Limbo, but I don't like my alternatives. It's less responsibility to stay here. I'd rather be in Limbo than in Hell, and Heaven is just too ambitious for me when I'm feeling so sick.