Destruction

I am so fucking low right now it's ridiculous. I've cursed so many times this past hour I can't believe it. I don't give a fuck about anything right now, I'm self destructing and that's how the night will end; curled up with a fucking pillow once again. Alone, again. What is with people and fucking leaving? What is it with people hating me when I haven't even done anything to them? Perhaps they can smell something on me. I'm trouble and I don't even know it. Seriously, though. It's happened three fucking times. I replay the scenarios over and over again in my head thinking, is this where I went wrong? Is this the beginning of the end?

I know I should give it up. I know I should just stop caring. But it's so hard to stop caring about the only thing worth acknowledging in a world that seems so irrelevant. Why shouldn't I cling to the only thing I give a real shit about? Is it insecurity? Is it that one day you might wake up and wish you had someone other than me? What is so wrong with me that no one seems to like? Is it the cynicism? Is it the overwhelming attachment? Is it the fact that I answered every fucking one of your text messages? Why are people so goddamn afraid of someone giving a shit about them? Don't get me wrong, I'm the same way. Someone gets attached and I automatically move away. Is it because of all the crazy sad things that happen when two people are attached to one another? Or is it just the fact that you see the more annoying side of people when they're only there for you?

The other night my sister's boyfriend told her "have fun and goodnight, hun." She completely ignored it and didn't respond. I would give anything in my world to have something like that. To be able to respond with a "Thanks sweets, you have fun too, sleep well, let's do lunch tomorrow. Love you, night."

This is simply the ballad of a broken heart. Tomorrow I will thank God for being single, so I can avoid the pain of companionship. Deep down some where, though, there's still a part of me that loves the drama. That wants that ache in order to feel alive. That part of me will always be the smaller yet louder part of my teenage angst that just wants someone to have and to hold.

How many people before me have thought this? How many people before me have written famous poems and soppy movies and boring plays about this very subject. The truth is... they were all right. How meaningless is life without someone to share it with? ..... What is it in human nature that needs companionship? I mean, sure, there are other species out there who find a mate and stick with them for life. But with people, we go through about 20 mates before we find that one we "spend the rest of our lives with"; mostly ending in divorce or unhappiness. Why is it we need to feel the pain of love and loss? Is it the drama? Is it true that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

Perhaps. Yet I know plenty of people who have ended up on their own, with kids and no house to call a home, and $25 says they would rather have not lost.

So I'm stuck at a dead end that only looks towards a cliff face and a 200 foot drop off. There are plenty of fish in the sea, they say, but what if I don't want those shitty fish? What if I want the last remaining Leafy fucking Sea Dragon? He's Just Not That Into You taught me one thing. I cannot be the exception. I have to be the rule. And if the rules say I will be unhappy the rest of my life, I'm saying fuck the rules, let's go get high and fuck hookers in my trailer parked next to a California Condor nest.

I mean, really, I could give you the whole fucking world if you just gave me the time of day.