Friday, April 1, 2011
Long Winding and Unravelling
Don't tell me I have to be patient, because I'm tired of hearing it. Don't tell me that it'll just happen - if that's the case, then why hasn't it happened? Don't tell me it's because I'm not truly ready, because goddamn it, I am. If you must say something, then tell me how to find someone. Tell me where to look, tell me who is actually interested; and if no one is, then shoot me and save me the disappointment and the complete shattering of my self esteem. That's probably going to be the most likely case anyway, so why even bother I guess? After all these years of life, and nothing to show for it but scars, and memories; but no one who stayed. No one wanted to stay. No one wanted to take up a permanent position in my life, so the spot is still vacant, waiting for someone; right now, anyone is good enough. They don't have to be perfect. I'm sure that one day I'll find the person who is perfect, for whom that position was specifically carved, the way jigsaw pieces are made to fall together flawlessly. Until then, it's just a matter of filling the gap with anyone who's a close enough fit. I'm beyond caring; I just need someone.
But who would want me? This is the true problem. Who would look at a girl who always wears jeans and a t-shirt? Who stays in the background among groups, and is in the foreground with friends, only to say stupid, over the top things. Who embarrasses herself continually, who tries to be more extroverted to hide low self worth. Who never bothers with her hair, who never touches cosmetics, who never bothers to change her appearance in any way from what is comfortable for her, and yet, is so uncomfortable. Who never feels confident, but feigns it all the time, who isn't really funny, but tries to be all the same. Who isn't entirely kind hearted, but tries to kid herself that she is. Who tries to pretend she doesn't care, but cares more than she dares to admit to anyone, even herself. Who is more lost, more confused and more lonely than a person in a foreign country without a map, with no understanding of the language. Who looks with a diminishing hope to each coming day, thinking"maybe this'll be it". Who cannot express the emotions she feels, who is too afraid to show emotion, who is too afraid to be vulnerable. Who is the most vulnerable person in existence, but tries to pretend that she is strong. Who is the biggest coward who ever lived, but will never admit it. Who wants to be strong, confident, without a care about what other people think, but is too caged within herself to actually be those things. Who is attracted to everything she cannot be, should not be and is caught in a world which borders more on fantasy than reality. Who falls for people without having ever spoken to them, and then tries to be aloof, just to keep the dream alive, whilst killing any chance of it in reality. Who wants to see beauty in everything, but no matter how hard she tries, simply can't. Who wants to be interesting, unusual and unique, but falls into a pattern of just being strange, without any kind of allure, or even worse, average, without even "the girl next door" air about her. Who is lazy, who complains, who has no particular talent. Who has terrible posture, and cannot look people in the eye when speaking, even when not guilty of anything. Who prefers staying inside, brooding, than outside being happy. Who wants to do things on her own because she's too embarrassed to do them with other people. Who wants adventure, but is too afraid to seek it. Who wants chaos and order simultaneously. Who wants to be free and daring and get in trouble with the law. Who gets angry to the point of tears over the smallest things, and who suppresses it all, even if in a murderous rage. Who is awkward and feels like she doesn't even fill our her own skin properly. Who wishes she could be a little more in the spotlight, just so people don't forget she exists. Who is often overlooked and forgotten. Who prefers sitting in the corner than anywhere else in a room. Who gets frustrated in a million ways, but never lets it out. Who loves beautiful and fragile things, but is unable to make them or keep them. Who loves darkness and insanity and wishes she could use them as an excuse for crazy actions, but knows it will never be plausible. Who is morbid. Who wonders who would turn up should she end up in hospital, or who would cry if she died. Who wishes she could go after what she wanted, but is always too afraid. Who more often than not just wants to break down and dissolve. Who is tired of the way life is going for her. Who sees a bleak future on the worst of days, and doesn't try to see the future on the best of them. Who wants to be artistic and creative, but honestly lacks the sensibility to be so, while also lacking the reason to be good at the logical and the people skills to be humanitarian. Who lacks focus and determination and motivation, who hardly ever completes everything. Who is seriously one of the most messed up people alive. Really, who would want that? Would you?.......yeah, didn't think so. Explains why I'm still here. Alone. Like I probably always will be, even though it kills me more and more everyday. I'm just more inclined to sadness than happiness, like that's my allotted lot in life. It's better I recognise that now and learn to deal with it. Maybe the disappointment won't be as bad then later in life.