I may not have it worse.
My problems may not seem or be as big as others...
But listen to this one thing; something I can't change...
Even if I wanted to.

I'm cursed.
I'm not sure how it happened.
Don't know which parent ****** up a witch's morning...
But I have a theory.

Once upon a time, I was a child.
As a child, something I've always wanted was a companion.
Yes, I wanted the ultimate friend (and sometimes foe) - A soul mate.
Though I didn't know where it came from at the time, I soon discovered more to that desire.
It started with my first friend.
He was such a charming guy, like a wolf with dog traits.
He was the first reason.
Soon, I discovered another guy, but with skin a pretty as snow and a voice as absent as a winter night's sound.
That was my second reason.
.
.
.
You know how this'll go.
I've come to realize that I wanted more than a soul mate. I wanted a lover...or a romantic soul mate...
But I've never received that one desire among many...


I'm not the boldest moth, nor am I the most secure ghost.
If I see a light, no matter how awe-inducing, I won't get closer unless I know I won't get stung...
I like to watch it from afar.
You know...feel it's smile warm me...
But I'd never get too close. It always ends badly...


How many times do I have to get stung before I find a light that won't sting me...?
Why can't I have a light that'll find me...?
Same goes for other moths I befriend...
.
.
.
I attempt to keep moths around, but no matter what I do...they leave as if I died.
They move, they disconnect, and they disappear...
...Oh wait, I'm a ghost moth.
.
. - Wait!
.
.
I never said I chose to be a moth...or a ghost. I never wanted this life...and I never asked to be cursed.

I've come to realize that I always end up alone, but I only ever hear that it's never my fault.

Some moths think I should just settle for the light from the stars...because I get that light without much effort...but do they not realize the damage of having to stretch my wings to reach a star...
.
.
Just to find out that they could care less about who you are...
.
.
Yeah, no.






But anyway, to end this...because I don't want you to get bored of little ole me, which you most likely are, cause no one would read my life...unless I keep continuing to destroy it.
.
.
.
I am cursed...and I have absolutely no ******* idea how or what I did or what I can do to stop it.