So.... Months have passed and yet not one word has been left, for myself, for others...
I suppose you could say I haven't had the time, the patience, the desire of leaving myself open like a book. To be read, to be felt, to be understood. I figured, in the long run it truly meant nothing, to us all.
My life is merely one dramatic play after another. Sorrow, lust, desire, love, hate, pain.... You love someone, whom isn't ready for such commitments, but only with you, are they this way. Then hatred, and anger sweeps in. Angry, for he chooses another, than me. Hate him, for simply pulling my heart's strings. Tangling me up in my own confused thoughts, and emotions. Then the pain comes, the pain of knowing his lips met hers, and he did not refuse her those kisses.
*shrugs* I am told I am worthy of love. But the ones I love, do not love me. So I suppose there itself, is a problem, that is in dire need of being fixed. But how? It is not like I can snap my fingers and produce from that simple gesture the key of fixing myself. I despise knowing whom the one is, and that I can not have him. I despise knowing, how people feel about me, but are too scared to jump into it.. What is so wrong with me?
Am I that messed up? I know i'm emotional, and I know I can be rather jealous. But I have been working on it.. I truly have.. It wouldn't have been bad, if someone didn't test me all the damn time... Causing me to distrust, to answer in anger, instead of understanding. To push my buttons constantly, to make that crack in my heart, widen with every spoken word.
I am delicate, sensitive, incapable of having true love. It's just a fairy tale, lost in the midst of the shadows, lurking just beyond my grasp...
Pathetic, isn't it?