Monday, February 18, 2013

~~Shattering Again, So Long a Fall....:Life Post~~

Atonement. Attempting to recover the part of me that's good, and bare it to your judging gaze. Tearing open a vein with shattered teeth, just to pour out the diamond-encased, diseased blood. Revealing everything, and yet hiding the very part of me that MUST be let out if I am to recover...Saying things I would never say, but saying them all to the one person I know must read this if..if I am to make it out alive. And...that should be obvious, but I'll say that anyways: Ian.

I know I....I know I SHOULDN'T do this, but I have to post this. I have to say this. I atone, and breaking myself down and showing myself to you is the only way I know. I have done you wrong by doing myself wrong. Slowing down my recovery when I should be running ahead with it. Damaging...Damaging myself, when I could be doing no harm.

It's all my fault.

Damn this....

Damn this cold, fragile world! Damn this fickle, fragile, foolish heart of mine...

Get away wall, get away from me~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Get away coldness, get awaygetawaygetawayHELP!getawaygetawaygetaway.......

I'm going mad, so close close to it.

But yet I'm not. A curious cold, a curious desire to go on makes me cling to the edge even though the abyss calls me so. If I throw myself off, instead of accepting your hand....

Don't swim, and keep going with the flow of life...

How long until I hit the rocks and spikes, previously hidden by the welcome black?

How long until I pirouette, a broken ballerina, spiralling into oblivion, my staccato shrieks lost to the roar of the water?

How long would it take?

I'm camming again, okay? I'm doing all of it...again.

And not because I expect a different result.

Not..because I know this time it won't hurt me; that this time I can control it.

Those are just lies. I expect nothing more than the bullshit and the ache in my chest from guilt and shame. I know this time it's going to kill me if I don't stop it. I know this time....I know I NEVER had any control over this demon of mine.

I wonder so much at my character. I do so much, beg for attention, for affection....

For someone to love me even though I cannot love them back.

And why can't I love them? Simple....Because there are so many who offer me love. Who offer me kindness. So many treat me so well, so nice....They're so good to me....

But yet they aren't.

They try so hard, and if...if they were different, they could probably help right? Right?

They could, but I can place no faith in the many who seek my heart. I place no faith in them.

I put everything I had into the relationships I was with before, and I'm not even going to bother listing them now. I was foolish, and I put my faith in fickle fools no better--but yet no worse--than I. I relied on the ordinary, hoping for the extraordinary thing that will wrench me out of my self-imposed exile and hurl me bodily into the all consuming light of day.

No more secrets....

No more secrets, except the ones I know I should be telling.

Maybe.....If I was better....I could handle what Ian is prepared to give me. If I could put my faith in something, maybe it could be him? I've.....I've never believed in anything, you know that right? There is no God. No Allah. No flying pink stick of butter with telekinetic powers. There's an after life in the Figment beliefs, which I say I follow--and by the Gods, I created them--but I don't even believe in that! I have NEVER put my faith in anything. In anyone. And the idea terrifies the living hell out of me.

How do I rely on people that have never been there for me?

People who let me get bullied all my life and never did anything?

People who WATCHED me get hit with a stick and never stopped it?

How do I rely on people who never knew what was going on?

How couldn't they see.....

How CAN'T they see how far gone I am, and how long I've been running on empty?

I'm going on fumes of someone who used to be, clinging....Clinging to an idea. An idea of life, of love, of recovery. I want to recover! I want to get out, I want to find a light, I want....

I want to feel love in a way that isn't an ache in my chest.

I want to feel like I'm flying....

I want to feel good enough for this, because I don't feel good enough for it and if only.....If only I knew how to fix it!

Ian...He's helping me as much as he can. But he's right--this has to be me.

What should I do?

Make it a mantra, repeat to myself that I am good enough and that I am...that I am deserving of everything he gives me? And that I can recover from...what I have done to me?

I allowed them to hurt me, however unintentionally. Many never meant to tear me in two, but the deed was done and my life was won to them.

I innocence.

I wish I could keep it. I wish I could get it back. Because I...I liked being young, even if my childhood wasn't that great. At least I wasn't as scarred as I am now....

At least I could love.

I'm so tired of all this....

Of people falling for me, caring about me....

Why won't you just leave me alone?

I'm with IAN.

And Ted, but with IAN!

And I'm not going anywhere.

I'm not...going...ANY-FUCKING-WHERE!

And now I'm assuring myself.

God, I suck at lying to both myself AND him.....Okay, well, how should I start all this?

I'll start with what..what he said to me. He asked me this: "How long until the words I speak become empty to you?"

How long....

How long until I hurl him away?

How long...until I pitch myself off that cliff?

I'm afraid I'm slipping, guys. I can't cling to this cliff any more; my hands are bleeding from the rocks, and he's so far....

He's so far....

But yet, he's not.

I sense him here, watching over me closely. Lovingly. He's so proud of me.....

So proud of me, for getting so far....

Even though I trip more than I should, I have gotten far.

I'm okay.

I'm......I'm okay.

I'm going to let him pull me up now.

It's time to end....this post.

I love you.

With every piece of broken me.

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I love you, random stranger. Thanks for dropping by, and for dropping a line. --Half Mad Writer