I may be eating alone, but in my mind you're across from me.
I may be sleeping alone, but I'm dreaming of you next to me.
I am always alone and you are never even near, but you are always on my mind.

The times we aren't speaking I get pressure in my chest. I feel like I can't breathe. I can't imagine you not in my life without feeling like my entire world is ending. But you've never been mine and I was always yours.

"just try not to give a ****."

I try and I try and I ******* try.
But all I do is give a ****.
I care so ******* much that it claws up my throat until it feels like I can't breathe.
I care about anything that goes through your stupid ******* head, even now, when I know you could give a ****.
I don't want to anymore.
I don't want to want you anymore.
Your apathy drowns me.

my heart is unfair.
I feel too much way too fast.
but I am always too scared to say a thing.

not one person has ever matched my intensity.
so I sit quietly in love with people.
too afraid to expose my heart.

I've done it before,
been open about my feelings.
but now I lay with holes in my heart.

so, for now, I will keep quiet.
patch up my aching heart.
and wait until I am stupid enough to hope again.

I see everyone around me getting married.
I'm always a little shocked, but I'm also jealous. I want that love.
I want someone to feel like that for me, but instead I watch you read my messages but never reply.

If every eligible person was a flower, I would be wilted in partial shade, while the others are springy and colorful.
I have always gone unnoticed, and I must stay that way because I am simply too difficult for anyone to love.
I seem to be a little beyond my years, and no one's ready for my intensity.
I burn too bright, too hard.

I hate it most when you fake it.
I told you I wanted honesty. No matter if that meant you hurting me.
Instead you stopped talking to me, and now I am haunted by your smile and all the charming things you said.

But the worst of all is that doubt.
Did you mean what you said? Did you care?
You still swear yes.
But my brain is screaming no, while my heart remains forever hopeful that someday I could have someone mean it.

Every one else got a choice

but i didn't.

I should have known better. But I was naive then, and I am definitely not now. You seduced me with your smooth talking and I looked to you like a God. See, I was stupid. I thought you had feelings for me then. But I was a toy, while your girlfriend I didn't know about wasn't around.

Then you left.

I thought I did something wrong. I cried about it. The only man to ever give me any attention had disappeared.

Then you came back.

I got to close that time. I scared you off. I asked who hurt you, because I can see when someone has been ****** up the same way I am. You made excuses and then...

Then you left.

It hurt more this time. I knew I pushed too hard. But didn't you realize I CARED for you? I just wanted you happy. I just wanted you.

Then you came back.

You told me everything in a rare moment of weakness and we cried together. We cried because we were so happy that someone else was going through the same ****** up ****. It was different after that. Because now you had actual feelings for me. We agreed to meet.

But you never showed up.

We had been off and on throughout our relationships (that is, if you let me know you were in one, which you often didn't) and then you left me hanging. It hurt a lot. I wondered what I did.

I never told you I love you. But I think I do sometimes. I just don't know what the **** love is or what it feels like. Not romantically.

Later that year I found out you got engaged. From your twitter account. This was it. I cried and cried. But I insisted I was happy for you.  I forced myself to be. You changed your number. My number never made it in to your phone.

Then you left.

I wanted nothing more than to talk to you. But I knew that if we talked it would be bad, and I wanted you happy more than anything. So I forgot about you best I could.

But you came back.

I asked how your wife was. You insisted on meeting. I denied. and denied. denied. denied. den-******* fine. So we met. I regret that more than anything. If I hadn't gone that day, then we probably would be fine. But I did. And we kissed. And I wouldn't let you touch me.

Then you wanted an affair.

I said **** no. I will never willingly help someone cheat. I told you we could be friends but that's it. Otherwise don't talk to me.

I've lost count of the number of times I've blocked your email, phone, or whatever. I'm not kidding.

Now you swear you love me. I tell you that you don't, you just aren't used to one woman in your life. You tell me you wish you had left her.

Well.

F
U
C
K

Y
O
U

I hate you for doing this **** to me. For manipulating me. For lying. For all your ******* *******. I hate you because I hate myself. I hate you for getting me to believe you love me. For saying I make you happy.

Well guess what? I deserve better, and I know I can't ever trust you. I hope one day you don't 'love' me. I hope one day you realize the **** you've done to me.

******* for still having me hanging on your every word.

I love you.
I mean not just you.
I love a lot of people, a lot of things, concepts, etc.
But anyway.
I love you.
Notice I'm not saying I'm in love with you, because that's different.

And I realize and I know.
Not many people feel it like me.
Some days I think my purpose is to give as much as I can and get nothing in return.
I am simply made to feel empty and alone, no matter what.
That's no one's fault but my own.

See, if I could help it, I wouldn't love you.
My love, my affection, my thoughts, my feelings, ****, even my presence is wasted on you.
You couldn't care less what or where I am.
Who I'm  with, who I'm *******, what I feel.
But, I can't hate you for giving me feelings.

It's not YOUR fault I'm like this.
I know I know I know.
But it doesn't help that you nurture my feelings.
When you touch me like you might care.
Like holding my hand in dark rooms. Like kissing me softly.
But you don't care. At least not sober.

I am constantly bending over backwards for anyone.
Even a stranger.
I want to make everyone happy.
I want to help people.
But I can never do it for myself.

my brain is buzzing but my thoughts are dull.
or rather i am numb to them.
i was fixed before but now im back to old habits.
it terrifies me that this habit could easily be the end of me.
at the same time it only gets worse from here.
but all i know right now is that i am so
so
tired.

i want to live and be a billion things like i am in my own imagination.
i guess im depressed because the real me cant be any of those things.
i am infected with meritocracy.

Every time you swear you love me I can't help but wonder if you've said the same thing to her. Do you say ithat in the same breath? Would you dare? I wish I was more surprised at your sudden disappearance but old habits die hard, right? You insist that you love me but your actions have always spoken louter than your ******* words. And I am always a fool for thinking anything different. I am consistently broken by you because I want to believe you so badly. I want someone to love me that much, and to love them back without fear. I hope you know I'm not a game or a toy to only be played with when you feel like it or when it's convenient for you. I will hate myself for always letting you in and you will always manipulate your way. I should've  known better. I hope you read this and know that you ****** up. Don't expect forgiveness and don't think that I will ever forget.

I am screaming and screaming and screaming.

But not with my voice.

With the way I fold into myself when you're around, because I don't want to say anything dumb. **** I don't even know what to say.

The way I put my walls up. Because I don't want you seeing me vulnerable because then you'd have power.

The way I don't even look at you because I don't want to be caught staring.

I am screaming out for your attention, except I'm sending the opposite signals.

Funny how that works, hmm?

The only time my brain is quiet is when I am sleeping. The rest of the time my mind is swirling with thoughts so saturated with anxiety that I forget to breathe.
My heart constantly feels heavy. I am always on the verge of crying.

Every single part of me is screaming out for help. I just want to be held and soothed like a child, but I could never be as naive.

On the outside I seem like a ticking time bomb to anyone close to me. To anyone who doesn't know me, I appear almost normal.

Mostly I just feel so ******* crazy. I feel crazier and more broken apart three years ago. Which was before anyone knew anything.

I want to put myself back together like a puzzle, for at least the third time, but this time I'm scared the pieces don't fit together right anymore.

I'm trying to figure out what it means that you only **** me when you're not sober.
I'm trying to tell myself that it's just because you're more brave and not because you don't find me attractive sober.
I'm trying to tell myself that 'well he's high all the time anyway' so what difference does it make now?
I'm trying to tell myself that it's just *** and not feelings
I'm trying to tell myself that even though we've had *** that it's normal we aren't friends on anything and I don't have your number. It's just a coincidence, you're just teasing me, and waiting me out. You like me. You think I'm pretty. You want me sober.

I just want you to want me like I want you.

I remember the day I realized I was fat.
I was probably ten years old, and a little chunkier than my peers.
I still have that feeling now, over ten years later.
Looking in the mirror everyday, lifting my shirt, looking at my body.
But it's not good enough.
I want to be smaller.

I used to not eat hardly at all.
Just enough to make my mom feel like I was.
Then, I barely ate because I wasn't hungry, and I was too busy.

Now, at my skinniest as an adult, I still don't feel good enough.
Sometimes I think about what I'd look like if I lost twenty pounds.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm okay with how I look, but it never lasts for long.
That hate will creep up with no warning, and then I'm back to pointing out my fat spots.
I just want to feel beautiful.

I don't remember what my father looks like anymore. Not off the top of my head. I can only picture parts of him, like his hands and his freckles, and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

I am so undoubtedly his child, and I am terrified everyday. Sometimes when me and my mom fight she calls me Gary. She doesn't mean to, but we're overwhelmingly similar and it's hard for her. She's raised a child that has a mind so very opposite of her own.

My dad had something in him that would not settle. His brain always looked for darkness. My mother doesn't understand sadness. She cannot see why I look at things like he did.

I've tried to explain it, that I have part of me wanting so badly to be happy, but there's also a darkness in my brain that I cannot shake. I've tried pills, but I can't be on those forever, so now I'm on my own.

It's hard to believe that my father has been dead for 10 years now. That's half of my life. From now on I will have spent more time without him. It still aches like it was months ago and not a ******* decade.

I wonder often if there is something wrong with me. I give and give and give. I love so easy, so freely, and quickly...but I haven't found anyone else who does.

I fall in love in a matter of moments. I am so tired of worrying about everyone else. At the same time I could never put myself before anyone.

No one ever proved to me that I was important. So now I go through life looking and hoping for anyone to just ******* love me.

Not only that, but love me like I love you.

I knew by the way you looked at her that it was going to happen.
Were not exclusive, and I don't want to be, but that doesn't seem to matter to my heart.
Seeing you pay her attention made me jealous beyond belief, it made me feel so small.
Invisible.
Funny, because two weeks ago you were in my bed begging.
Now you hardly look at me, but I get it.

Unless you're ****** up, and I'm the prettiest/most accessible girl in the room and then all you can do is look.
I'm a convenience.
I know it, and it hurts me, but I cant stop because at least someone is showing me some love.
It doesn't help that you have this terribly charming ******* like quality to you, where I can't stay mad.
Or maybe that's because I'm always a little sweeter on the people who have been in my bed.

What's really unfair about it all? I know you could care less about who else I'm *******, but I can't stand the thought of you ******* anyone else. I want your attention, I want your affection, and I want you.

I know this won't end well for me, but it doesn't mean I'm going to stop.

I have a tendency to have less control over my mind than most people.
My mind often has intrusive thoughts that I don't want anymore.
Because now more than anything else I want to live.
But sometimes part of me still want to die.

Usually I can chop it off quickly, and regenerate good again.
This summer I wasn't so lucky.
After two years of being almost normal, I broke again.
If you hadn't been there I honestly don't know where I'd be.

Our time spent together, the moments we had helped me.
We grew close, and thanks to you I wasn't alone with myself all the time.
I am so grateful for your help and love. If you hadn't been there I think there's a good chance I would have tried to die again.

Now I'm not there to be with you. I want to be more than anything. Seeing you sad makes me hurt because I know you're one of the kindest people I'll ever meet. I wish I could help you more than I am. I wish I could take your pain away. But I can't. So for now, I will help you as much as I know how. You deserve the world. One day someone will give you that.

I don't understand when people hate their scars.
I've only ever found them beautiful.
Even my own, which were not accidental, nor out of love.
They are instead time stamps of different eras of my life.
Some of those eras weren't pleasant.
But I will never hide my scars.
Not even the ones on my face.
Because I want every reminder to live.

There's nothing quite like falling in to bed with you.
I know that it's not the same for you, and don't think I'm in love with you, far from it.
But sometimes when you look at me with those bedroom eyes and smile that **** eating grin I am. For a moment.
Then, later when you're staring at me with a sweet smile I am for a few minutes.
But even still you stay elusive.
You've had my attention since you kissed me the first time.
Now you've become something I'm determined to figure out.

Don't think I'm expecting a love story, I am not that naive. I just want your attention, too.

I will never be able to get the feeling of your hands running up and down my body.
It's funny, after a year of this you're starting to text me to **** but when we're in bed nothing is quiet enough.
I don't think you're ashamed, but I know you like me best when you're out of your mind.

I don't care, and I probably never will. I enjoy being with you, but I don't have to be ****** up to want you. I'm not asking for love.

I just want you to have some sort of attraction to me. Show me something besides apathy or drunk and high you wanting to ****.

I like you for more than our ***. You make me laugh and you can be sweet if you want.

I can't get the sight of you looking at me when I wake up. Your eyes are always so bright. I just want to lean in and kiss you, to kiss your scruffy face.

I'm still here as the convience **** I know I am, and I know it won't last that much longer. Doesn't mean I can stop thinking about you anyway.

I don't want to spend anymore time alone.
I am so ******* tired of being alone with my thoughts.
I am so angry at nothing and anything.
I fear that I am unlovable.
I am scared that my mind will betray me.
I just want to feel safe.
I need someone good in my life.
But I don't deserve it.
I'm just damaged goods.

You held my hand like you did that one night.
(The one that I think about far too often)
Stroking your thumb and occasionally squeezing to start a fight,
I still find it cute.
And yet, the only way we communicate is still face to face.
Those interactions are never what I expect them to be.
Sometimes you decide you like me, sometimes you don't, sometimes you even flirt.

But last night, when you touched me like that in the first time in almost three months, I was back.
I had been trying to get rid of the touch I still felt from that night.
(when you were much sweeter than I thought you ever could be.)

You intertwined our fingers, and stroked my hand long after we both went to sleep. I kept dreaming that something was keeping that hand warm, but then you'd squeeze my hand and I'd wake up and realize it was you.

It just makes me wonder what you were thinking.

And even though I don't want to, I'm back to seeing you in my dreams.