(no subject)
this is going to sound like a jambled bunch of mishmosh:
last night, i came home around 8 and was nothing short of ecstatic. why i was is of no consequence, but just that i was something other than moderately happy/moderately miserable is saying something. by about eleven, that feeling had waned, and nearly unbearably so.
i despise that i'm so goddamn impulsive. i do things on a whim without really considering the full effect. i choose to pretend that i won't regret it in the long run and that, for some strange reason, it's all 'worth it.' this time, it wasn't worth it.
i feel like a fucking cave animal. i latch onto anyone/anything that pays me the least bit attention and offer it as much affection as humanly possible, even to the point where it's creepy. i'm petrified of being alone. i want so badly to be independent, but i can't seem to break my streak of overwhelming dependence on everything that fucking breathes in my direction. this, i've come to realize, is another result/consequence of having been ill for so long. i don't associate myself with my body, i see it as a seperate entity all to itself. therefore, it acts of its own accord and whether or not it is abused is of little matter to me. therefore, i allow it to be abused. a large majority of the time, i abuse it. and i don't care. why? because i don't feel that it's mine, i feel as though it's someone else's body entirely and that i just own it for the time being. it makes very little sense to anyone else but me, but i swear, it is somewhat logical. only not.
i regret it.
i wanted so badly to fulfill a promise, see how things would work, finally find out if it was worth the wait. it wasn't.
i should have remained a mystery. now i'm just damaged goods again.
again and again and again.
i have no self-control. i'm on the brink of something very bad and i feel as though i have no one to stop me.
and i don't care.
i enjoy being wild. genuinely.
but at the same time, it worries me because it's so out of character for me.
i don't know.
everything is a goddamn mess, as usual.
i'm confused. alone. and an emotional wreck about 85% of the time. i do plan on working this all out in my head.
i really do.
as of right now though, i barely have time.
shame.
it hasn't fully hit me yet, i know it hasn't. it's been a very short while, and though i am genuinely happy, i know it's only surface happy, a happy that is easily retractable - a happy that will go just as rapidly as it came. i will crash. i'm awaiting it with bated breath, crossing my fingers it will spare me one more day. i'm petrified of accepting the truth - the fact that i am wholly, encompassingly alone. not alone in the sense that there is no one around me, but alone in the sense that my heart is now empty. what's left of my metaphorical heart anyway. i cannot deny that i am reminiscient. nostagic. pining.
but i am holding onto something that no longer exists. and that destroys me, day in and day out. i wasn't aware that you could look at someone, knowing everything about that person, knowing who they are, and realizing that they're entirely different from the person you came to know and love. it's like when your a child and you encounter your first 'tainting' experience. after it, you're never the same. this is similar. i feel as though nothing i do from this point on will ever be the same. i feel wholly affected. like how i felt for that long period of time will determine every feeling i ever have again. is he thinking of me? should i be thinking of him? does he miss me? do i genuinely miss him? i don't hate him, do i? i know he hates me. or does he? am i losing my mind? did i do the wrong thing? will anyone ever be able to make me as happy?
i have no answers. just a shitlod of questions that make very little sense to me. i feel like i lost a large part of myself. i feel like a shell. like a dirty. but emptied trash can. i don't feel the same. i know i never will. and i'm afraid of that.
i know i have to get better. i know i still feel the same way i did. but i know i still feel that way about someone who i'm not so sure exists or ever could exist again. but so the feeling remains. as did the feeling last night until i killed it entirely.
i suppose i have to wait until this either dies or revives itself.
though i'm hoping it's the latter, i'm relatively positive it won't be,
sigh. this was long and unncessary, i apologize.
tomorrow is halloween.
i know it's going to be a very difficult day for me.
i wish i could sleep through it.
ps i had an awful dream last night.
i don't even want to go into it, but it was extremely easy to interpret and mainly consisted of one particular person yelling at me about another particular person, insisting he 'didn't really care and could never care half as much as he did.' he continued to rant and rave about how 'i sucked and how i'd never ever, so long as i live get over this and that i'd forever be tied down by it as i'm incapable of accepting truth and moving on.' it was lovely.