There are certain things that instantly hit a person's raw nerves. I've got many, but this, I think, has got to be the worse.
I can't blog about it as openly as I would have liked, because it'll invite gossip to, not just me, but the people around me as well. I've always tried to be truthful about this, and it's come with varying comments. Some agree with the way I treated it, openly and as harmlessly honest as I could. Most just think it would do me more good if I kept it to myself.
I really want mummy to understand. I can't find a reason why she has to drop it like a bomb each time. Is it that difficult to at least let me know earlier? Afterall, I'm the reason all this is happening, isn't it? She doesn't realise that I'm hurting. And I have decided a long time ago that she doesn't need to know. Her knowledge of the truth will not change anything, apart from making her more upset than she should be.
I know it's my fault. Whether I am actively responsible, it doesn't really matter. She really don't have to keep rubbing it in my face.
I've come to see this as the reason why the suicidal thoughts appear as often as they do. I've come to attribute my lack of guilt for entertaining these death wishes to it. Don't gasp at me. Everyone has such thoughts every now and then.
It's just. No matter how I look at it, it's almost like my future has been laid out for me. And when I look down the path I have to take, what stares me in the face is this absolute bleakness. No matter what I do and how I do it, I will never be able to run away from this, this which I've never wanted, this which I've tried to run away from.
And then I consider the possibilities. When will the past start catching up to me? When will I finally have to face up to the monstrosity of it all?
They're probably never going to come up with the papers to cut me free from these ties. Papers they used to threaten me with. It's a choice I wouldn't be able to make.
The tears that fall are mine alone. It isn't fair for anyone to have to share my burdens. It's why I keep trying to put on as brave a front as I can, only to have it smashed over and over. I wish I could stop crying about this, I wish I could stop thinking about it. I wish I'm as nonchalent as I act, as brave as people perceive.
But I'm not. I don't know how to handle the truth. I don't want to handle it. And I definitely don't want for anybody to know this side of things. Which is why when I cry, the tears fall as silently and discreetly as I can muster them to.
Abc is worried. He probably feels obligated, as my bf, to etch the smile back onto my face. He doesn't know that I've become terrified for this, all over again, because of the last failed relationship. I've rarely let on the impact of things, of how he has really shattered my entire confidence.
It's a fear that I've always had. One that I've kept locked up because I'm so afraid, I don't even want to acknowledge it. And now, it's been forcefully brought up to the surface. I really only have myself to blame, don't I? How can I blame people for not being able to accept what I keep trying to pretend doesn't exist? How can I even...
And how appropriate is it, that this has to come at a point when I'm really trying to be happy for us all.
It's tiring to be with me, right?
I'm tired to be me. I really want to smile.
