It's been a few days too long.

I have work to do, and nowhere to go.

The least I can do is take a shower.
Because I might as well look good.

Even if there's nothing good about me.

Living through my tragic life, and then talking about it to the point where I can't even defend myself.

It's killing me.
There's no point to standing up for yourself.
And no point in arguing ever if you're right.

Living my life, and then being sad about it.
Telling people who can't help me.

It's like being on a treadmill.

It's exhausting without going anywhere.

I've been told that people have forgotten what happened.

I've been told that word got around.

I've been told that hatred still exists here.

And you tell me not to be guilty.

But I look at them...

And feel nothing but the pain I cause them.

I know I'm no good.

I cannot believe that you say I'm a good person.

When seeing them does nothing but remind me of how I ruined it all.

I'm not going to beat down on any religion.
That's a battle I don't need to be a part of.
Let alone, get on the wrong side of.

But here's the thing.

Something is very wrong with me.

What? I don't know.

It's not something under diagnosis or investigation, but it can **** as far as I can tell.

Long story short, I don't want to hear the good news.

We make it so easy to complain about nothing, and yet we stick to the things we hate.

Don't want homework?
Don't go to school.

Some people will take that advice, and most people will rebel against it and stick to school, because something will benefit surely...

Don't want to put up with the parents?
Leave home.

Don't want to feel pain?
Don't start feeling love.

Don't want someone to forget about you?
Become the worst possible version of yourself.

People can't seem to forget everything bad about the world.

Don't want to deal with the guilt of being a terrible person?
Then don't acknowledge anyone.

Don't want the pressure of being surrounded by people who hate you?
Then don't go anywhere.

You see none of these suggestions seem appealing at first.
But when you face this everyday, every answer comes out bland, and boring, cynical.

Like emotion you say them with.

Don't try.
Don't care.
Don't live.

It's too easy to give up!

But I do it anyway.

I can't handle hearing good news.

Or rather, hearing good things about myself.

Do not tell me I am better than this, I know I'm not.
Don't tell me I'm special, or that I'm redeemable, or worthy of anything above this.

Because I know...

I know deep down in this body there is a monster who's been uncaged before.

It's dying to get out...

And I'm dying to live.

You know I'm a simple human, I don't worry about much except for school, and food, and work opportunities, and the future in general.

And the future is big, it's one of my personal biggest fears, connected to my fear of the unknown.

I like to know when and where things happen and why. Needless to say, I'm an organized person.

I don't worry about much.
Sorry, I lied, I worry way more than I used to.

I can't do much of anything without needing confirmation and reassurance that I'm gonna be okay.

Mostly because I'm not okay.

Sorry, I shouldn't do this.
I do this thing where everything I write becomes about the same sorry tragedy, starring me as the main character.

But far from any kind of protagonist.

My best friend texts me and asks me if I'm doing okay, and I tell them "I don't want to talk about the end of the world".

At least, that's what I would say if I had a best friend.

Sorry, am I lying too much? There's only been two lies, and that's too much on the record for most people so just don't stop to address my mouth, just walk away in hopes that I might shut up.

When I was a kid, it becomes the end of the world when a classmate lets the entire class know who your crush is. And that sinking feeling that happens when I wonder if Jason would like a girl like me.

So yeah, the world's ending. But 10 years later Jason turned into a *******, so it's not that big of a deal.

If you believe in multiple dimensions, any one of those worlds could end just when the story gets good, like a cliff hanger that never gives you closure, or when a song cuts off because your phone died.

Like popping the question and before deciding to spend the rest of your life with someone you might love forever, the world splits in two and you fall away.

The world ends.

I want to live to answer that question like the world won't end until it has an answer from me. But somedays, even I'm indecisive.

When a test score comes back and it's just below what you wanted or needed it to be, the world ends.
When you put on your seatbelt on before your first driver's exam, the world ends.
When there is only one Oreo cookie left in the package, the world definitely ends.

December 21st, 2012, we were so convinced the world was gonna end, we made a movie about it that only managed to get 39% on Rotten Tomatoes.

And where was I the night before?

In karate class. My sensei standing before the class, shrugging it off saying "So the world's ending tomorrow... let's do some work".

The world goes on.

But when I woke up successfully the day after doomsday on the 22nd, I was surprised to be alive. Because what is any average kid supposed to think?

I was scared. But we continued on to Christmas anyway.

2017 comes along and we have yet another eclipse, one of many passed and yet to come.

I did not look up to see the sky shining of falling, my heart couldn't take it.

I am told, it is a sign. A link in the long chain of events leading up to coming of the Anti Christ, to the ends of the earth as we know it.

I have woken up countless times more scared of the ground falling out from under me than the sky falling onto me. I don't need alien invasions, or nuclear war, or acid rain, or killer volcanoes, or my own depression because the world is ending, and I don't want to talk about it.

They ask, "You're a Christian aren't you? Why are you scared? Of death, or the end, or anything?".

Being religious, and afraid are two worlds I'm told are never meant to touch, but yet they are still ending. I still haven't read the book of Revelation like a "Good Christian" Because I'm afraid of scaring myself. The world is going to end!

I did have a best friend.

Or at least, I treated them that way.

They said, "Death, is just another adventure. that's why I'm not scared of it."

I ruined my friendship with them about 8 months ago.

I haven't spoken to them in...

In..

I'm sorry. I can't remember.

But suddenly it feels like the first grade crush reveal all over again.

But it's different now.

Someone has left me.
And it hurts.

The world is ending...

And I don't want to talk about it.

~September 5th, 2017~
~Sometime between 10 and 11PM~

Her:
You're an empath.

Me:
I guess so.

Her:
Have you ever thought about it?

Me:
Being an empath?
I never knew there was a name for it.

I never knew there was a name form my kind of pain analyzation. Like I have some kind of supernatural power to read into pain of all kinds.

Her:
Is it that you understand other people's pain or your own pain or both?

Me:
I think I’ve always done both.

Her:
I had a feeling.

Here we go.

Her:
How does it affect you?

A loaded question, and being the person I am I answered it the only way I knew how:

Me:
I always get this feeling that when people are sad or hurt, I have to be too.
Sometimes it’s just my way of showing that pain is just something people have.

But mostly, it makes me helpless to stop other people’s pain.
I get sad, like some kind of way to share the pain that isn’t even mine.
And when it is my pain, nobody can seem to understand it fully.
And it’s not like I completely understand someone else’s pain,
but you see and hear a lot when you turn silent for awhile.

Lots of people try to say that people aren’t alone when they suffer.
And most of it is comfort.

But most of the time I see people in pain, and I don’t see a reason to comfort.

I see more of a reason to just be there.

Experience something beyond yourself.

There a certain type of selfless peace that comes when pain is no longer just one person’s fight.

It’s not about being together in pain. It's about experiencing life with pain just passing by.
It’s been said in books, “Pain demands to be felt”
I don’t know, something about that makes me wish I could do more.

But yeah,
I’m empathetic a lot of the time.
Maybe that’s why I stick around even when I shouldn’t.

I stop. I've said enough.

Me:
Sorry, I’m rambling...
That’s a ton of text.

Silence

And for a minute, I wonder if anything I say is being understood.

Her:
The way you speak is beautiful.
I'm marvelling in it.

... I sit in awe. Grasping at a full acceptance of the way I convey myself in feelings, but more importantly, here, in this moment.

Her:
You speak poetry.

Me:
No wonder I’m a poet.
It’s like destiny or something idk.

Part of me wishes I would have spelt the whole phrase out, it has the same amount of syllables.

Her:
I'm here for you.
I **** at comforting and that's not what I want.
All I want is for you to know that I am present.
And sharing the fight.

This, THIS right here, is companionship, and friendship, saying that "I can be here", and that will be enough.

Her:
I want to fight with you.
Even though I'm not very aggressive.

Hearing this said, "I want to fight with you". Not "I want to fight for you". This says more than any kind of battle with someone at my side, this is real, in this moment.

Me:
Hahah, we’ll fight it with music or something.
Doesn’t have to be aggressive.
Faith, hope, the essentials.

We're believers in things like love, God, and good songs that rock the world... and we don't need much more than that.

Her:
That said, music can be aggressive.
But we'll stick to the essentials.

We'll stick to our guns and hopefully, we won't have to fire.

Her:
Please know that you can ramble to me as much as you like.
I love it.

I know... me too.

Her:
Goodnight, love you.

And as we come to an end, we fall back into a small but familiar silence between us.

Me:
Goodnight, love you too.

-End-

The three poems I have made private here are all about you.

It seems like everything about my opinion of you is some kind of private matter.

Honestly...

I still care about you.
I think you're amazing.

Maybe I still love you.
But not in the same way I used to.

I'm sorry I'm not worth all that much nowadays.

I just wanted you to know that I'm going into therapy soon.

Getting help.

After all.

You said I needed to "sort myself out".
Okay.

I've been through a lot of things that shouldn't have happened to good people like us.

Or maybe I was never that good person.

Who am I kidding?

You're not reading this.

Last time you did, things went wrong and now all those poems are private.

So.

I can't even muster up any courage to say "hi" in any situation.

So I won't.

Makes things easier.

Okay.

Sorry I didn't try harder.
Sorry I wasn't there.
Sorry I called you late at night.
Sorry I still remember the circus.
Sorry I still want to send you gifts for your birthday and Christmas.


I...

Sorry I didn't say anything the right way or even at the right time.

Anyways... talk later?

Or never I guess.

You'll be busy.

And I have a therapy session to go to.