I think the hardest part of it all is realising that I’m not as indestructible as I thought I was. I thought I was was wonder woman, I thought I had super strength. I’ve been so numb to it all I didn’t think anything or anyone could ever break me down again. I was wrong.
The biggest problem I have with myself is that I feel. I’m so sick of feeling. In a perfect world I’d be emotionless, Incapable of feeling pain or misery. Willing to sacrifice joy and love. It infuriates me that I’m still not immune to my emotions, but then anger is a feeling. Which leads to my frustrations, and as we all know it frustration is a feeling as well.
I hope to have a daughter one day so that she can feel beautiful. I want her to shine on the inside and out. I want her light up a room and light up your heart. I want her to cherish her life and value herself. I want her to be confident and intelligent. I want her to be hard working and determined. I want her to make mistakes and learn from them, I want her to laugh and to smile. I want her to experience and be free. I want her to be charismatic and wild. I want her to love and love fully. I don’t want her to be anything like me.
I hate when people shit on my writing. Who is anyone to tell me that the words I put on paper aren’t of value? I write what I know, what I see, what I can. I write what I feel. I cannot change what hurts as an attempt to stimulate anyone’s mind. The way I feel it, I write it. I refuse to muffle the voice of my emotions.
I wonder what it’s like to feel so fucking beautiful with yourself even your ugliest moments are justifiable, to breathe easy, to laugh, to be loved.
He’s suffocating me. I’m not sure what it is he’s doing or what it is about him that plunges so deep into my emotions but there’s something about him that shuts off the air circulation in my body and makes me weak. He’s seeping under my skin, into my soul, he’s twisting my heart, and rearranging my head but I’m enjoying every wrenching second of it. He’s hurting me, in a good way. He’s bringing back the pain I forgot I could feel. I should stay away, all the signs are there, but I can’t give it up, him. I want it, I want him bad. He makes me feel dead again, he makes me sick. I’m not an addict. I just need a few more doses.