I Will Always Apologize For My Existence.
I will always apologize for my existence.
To be alive is in this world, in this humanness, is quite exhausting.
I am convinced I am wrong to be here as this; this living being, this whole person who has thoughts that can be spoken aloud.
I was meant to be something living, but quiet.
Something that has a voice, but no words that can be spoken.
I suppose, like a breeze that just whispers past.
A breath of wind that is craved on a warm day, but dreary in the winter.
I am meant to be a part of this world but not like this.
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The wanting is killing you, darling. The longing is keeping you from sleep. The way your chest aches is like a stone at the bottom of a lake.
I was not looking for love when you came along. I learned to live with mediocrity. I knew how my life would turn out. I had made peace with this. Everything was not quite how I had imagined, but it was good. Not great; who gets greatness these hard days anyway? You came along and reminded me of the great in this world. You made me want to live again. We found something between us that we didn’t know we needed.
I don't feel like ME anymore. If there ever was such a thing to begin with..
I want to be one of those normal people.
I know what you’re thinking, ‘there’s no such thing as normal.’
There are people out there though, that don’t hesitate to walk out the door to go to a store. There are people that don’t fantasize about death. There are people who don’t have trauma or flashbacks and nightmares about what others have done to them.
I want to be one of those people that wasn’t diagnosed with a major depressive disorder at 17.
I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to try several medications just for them all to fail.
I want to be one of those people that doesn’t have an anxiety disorder, and has a hard time just leaving the house.
I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to go to a therapist, just to add PTSD to the list of mental disorders.
I want to feel like a person again, instead of a number of things wrong with me, that affect my day to day life.
Please. Just let me be..
I despise myself. The way I live, or rather a state of surviving until the next sunrise. I despise the way I let others speak to me. The way I choose to live. I have no will to change it though. I will disassociate my days away.
I want to know, but I will not ask.
Can I tell you a secret?
I dream about a different life. One without children and without a husband. I dream of living alone. Having a small studio apartment. A decent job. Ultimately relying on me myself and I for everything. A few good friends I could meet on the weekends. Just living my life for me and me alone.
His eyes,
Blue as the sky on a stormy day.
Her eyes,
Hazel like the sodden ground beneath.
He is beautiful, in all the strange ways.
She is pure chaos, all sharp teeth.
They will never belong together.
Not in this lifetime.
Two almost lovers bound to roam forever.
So they dream of sometime…
I think you knew what you were doing this whole time. I hope I don’t get hurt in the end.
