no one wants to talk about it, and that is understandable. it is not always fun to talk to a friend
(or acquaintance, or random person) who is so clearly beaten, downtrodden, and unhappy. one can only listen for so long, and say so many things before time and patience wear away.
because of this, i live my life in suspension of reality. i laugh when i want to give up. i talk when i want to hide. i listen when i want to cry. i go places and do things with people when all i really want to do be with whom i want to be with. and because of this, i feel less like a person. i am a shell. [i wonder if this is how beautiful but aware people feel. watched but never really seen.]
people assume i am fine because i cannot impose my needs upon them more than i already have. my heartbreak is not their problem. it exists because of two people, and i am the only one of the two who talks, who wants to fix it, who seems to care at this point.
i cannot go to anyone, and they do not want to listen anymore. i dread the knowledge that if it does happen, if i do disappear into the chaos of it all, again. i may not be able to pick it all up again. and. and. i may not want to.
i have hope. but i also have despair. and one of them will engulf the other eventually. and i am not sure if it matters... .. . ..
i am ready to go, i think. i cannot take this anymore. it would be better for everyone. it would be better for everyone.
you're so pretty the way you are.