FUCK.
I am exactly where I did not want to be. I am exactly where I tried not to be.
Finals start a week from today.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, or how to figure it out. I do not know who to talk to about it, who can even offer anything close to an answer. I cannot talk to anyone I know tonight, because I am too fragile, too lost, and too infuriated with myself. I might have to leave. But where would I go? I don't have the time, or the money.
I think I know what I want, but there doesn't seem to be a way to get it. And fuck, does it hurt. That should mean something, shouldn't it? Who the fuck knows? Maybe I'm wrong. It wouldn't really be possible, anyway.
The level of my own hypocrisy makes me physically ill.
Please, for the love of God, let her be well again. I'll do anything. I'll give anything. I can't bear seeing her crack like that, knowing she's teetering. I can't possibly bear being outside, except when he comes up. No fucking way.
I wish I were her. Or him. I wish I were enough. What happened? I know I'm obsolete, but they'll argue if I say so. Maybe they don't realize it. I am legitimately happy at the state of them, and legitimately cheering (loudly) for a progression. But I know that in the process, I have become fringe. I knew I would. It just fucking burns, sometimes, if I think about it too much. So I don't.
I am sick and tired of disappointing. I am sick and tired of pangs. I am sick and tired of not knowing anything, and not being enough, and losing, and aching over losses.
Please bring her back. Please, please bring us back. I need that so much more than I ever even thought, much less can say. Please, give me that to hold on to. I can't lose it. Not this.
God damn it.
Finals start a week from today.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, or how to figure it out. I do not know who to talk to about it, who can even offer anything close to an answer. I cannot talk to anyone I know tonight, because I am too fragile, too lost, and too infuriated with myself. I might have to leave. But where would I go? I don't have the time, or the money.
I think I know what I want, but there doesn't seem to be a way to get it. And fuck, does it hurt. That should mean something, shouldn't it? Who the fuck knows? Maybe I'm wrong. It wouldn't really be possible, anyway.
The level of my own hypocrisy makes me physically ill.
Please, for the love of God, let her be well again. I'll do anything. I'll give anything. I can't bear seeing her crack like that, knowing she's teetering. I can't possibly bear being outside, except when he comes up. No fucking way.
I wish I were her. Or him. I wish I were enough. What happened? I know I'm obsolete, but they'll argue if I say so. Maybe they don't realize it. I am legitimately happy at the state of them, and legitimately cheering (loudly) for a progression. But I know that in the process, I have become fringe. I knew I would. It just fucking burns, sometimes, if I think about it too much. So I don't.
I am sick and tired of disappointing. I am sick and tired of pangs. I am sick and tired of not knowing anything, and not being enough, and losing, and aching over losses.
Please bring her back. Please, please bring us back. I need that so much more than I ever even thought, much less can say. Please, give me that to hold on to. I can't lose it. Not this.
God damn it.