you know, i've been depressed for a long time, and i've been masking that depression for an even longer time. i've always had suicidal thoughts, and i've always wanted to know how it would be like if i just died. is there an afterlife? i hope i could just melt away into nothingness. dissolve into the walls, evaporate into the air that you breathe in.
i had morbid conversations with my friends, discussing about the best ways to die. sometimes, those conversations took place out of sheer curiosity, other times, i was really trying to sieve out the most pain-less, fuss-free and prettiest way to go about dying. fortunately for the narcissistic me and with my incredibly low threshold for pain, every other conceivable method failed my scrutinizing inspection.
and then i met ray, who gave me a reason to love myself. simply because he loved me. and it hurt him to love me. it pained him to love me. and it saddened him to love me. i became a burden by hurting myself, by indulging in my fabricated, pessimistic ruminations.
i tried to shove him away, because i was convinced, he, like everyone else, will eventually leave me. i would attempt to test his limits, and yet hold back at the very last minute, hesitating because i needed him more than anything else, and i didnt dare carry out my fanciful plans, which at the back of my sick little head, i was sure would empty him of that love he had for me. and every attempt stabbed at me more than i had intended to impale him.
and then i got carried away, and i lost hold of myself. i became complacent, i took him for granted.
i've always been aware of the destructive prowess of my imagination. i've always wanted to become better. i've always wanted to change. et says that humans are driven by this self-enhancing bias, and we desire to see ourselves, as growing, maturing and improving. and yet at every single point in out lives, we think the best of ourselves. i thought i grew, i thought i matured, i thought i improved. but every setback that i encounter regresses me back to that incapacitated mess.
ray gave me the determination to become better, once and for all. he loved me like no other, and yet all i did was pain him, by hurting myself. and we broke up, to become better people.
i want to start loving myself. and loving the things and people around me. i want to love the imperfections of my life, like the mess that is my room, because it is humane, and it reeks of me. i want to love the sadness since i cant dispel them and because they make me who i am. i want to love the chores that i should be doing, those which i havent been, because i've been loved for so long, and i should give some loving back. (i think i'll take that back. fancy me, who rarely ever make my own bed doing chores.)
and i want to love you, because you love me, even though you dont love me.
really, what doesnt kill me makes me stronger, and i dont think anything is potent enough to drive me into my grave. if it could, it should already have. i still believe i'm dispensable, but then, so is everyone else. ^^
