ramble

i don’t know how many times i’ve said i’m done with you. don’t make this my fault by saying i think every thing’s “a joke”. maybe if you could have responded to my texts occasionally (i know that’s asking so much), not be mad at me every 30 fucking seconds, then maybe i wouldn’t act like every thing’s a “joke”

you have caused it to be a joke. do have i once again reiterate the stupid shit i have done to make you happy? i dumped my first boyfriend for you, did you want me then? no. did you want me when the only time we would kiss was when you were drunk, we were in my closet and lady gaga was playing? no, still wanted nothing to do with me. you said you loved me with your vodka soaked lips, and i believed you. i wrote you poetry, stories, took photos, loved the fuck out of you. i loved you so much, did you even fucking acknowledge me for a year after that? no. you just treated me like a child, which is understandable because i was naive, but most importantly, i was innocent.

i don’t think you ever understood how upset and frustrated you made me, how many times you used to make me cry. this is the first and last time i will confess this, you made me cry, you made me sad, you made me hurt like i hadn’t experienced before, that terrible feeling when you love someone, and they don’t love you back. that was a pathetic time for me, looking back on it now.

when you did good things, i forgot about how sad you made me and remembered how fantastic you were. when you went off to the hospital and were able to make phone calls, and you honored me with a voice mail saying that you wanted to see me. i felt fucking privileged when i heard your voice saying that, i felt like you wanted me. i remember exactly where i was when i listened to it. after hearing it, i literally could feel the happiness radiating from me, you were safe, and you wanted to see me. every 30 days, i would re save that message, and whenever i would get sad, i would listen to it. truthfully, i used to save all of your voice mails, no matter how stupid they were, i just wanted to hear your voice.

isn’t that pathetic? i’m angry at myself for ever doing that. it makes me sick to my stomach that i let you control my moods every single word.

the saddest thing is, that i kept coming back. i apologized for all the mistakes, blamed it all on me. some how, i always had screwed up, it wasn’t ever you. it’s as if we were running together together together, everything was fine and then all of a sudden, you’d back out at the last moment, gone, leaving me breathless and confused.

when i finally convinced, actually no, forced is the better word, you to officially date me after two years of on and off scattered i love yous, what happened then? did you want me then? obviously not because you dumped me a month later. with all that said, i am a piece of fucking shit, but you have ALWAYS known that, just like i’ve always known in one way or another you’ve never really wanted me. so fine, i’ll take that i’m dirty, indecisive and a whole bunch of other things, but you really can’t say i didn’t try.

because that’s a lie, i wanted you and i. really really really badly even, but at some point, i gave up in one way or another. i can’t ever win with you, and i’m tired of fighting. it came to me that you’ve never truely wanted me, because you don’t do that to someone you care about. that fact has always been in the back of my head, but i always used to push it away deeper and deeper because i didn’t want to think that. loving someone and not having them love you back cuts so badly. it’s the worst feeling in the entire world, knowing you’re not good enough, and nor would you ever be. i tried everything to have you think i was worthy of you and your time, but it wasn’t enough.

i’m better now, much better than the mess i usually was over you. i’m haven’t allowed myself to be upset over you anymore. i’m not heartbroken because you don’t respond to my texts, i’m not concerned that you’re not going to want to see me because i don’t have any weed, i’m not that stupid little girl you kissed a few times and gave false hope anymore, i’m really not.

it doesn’t kill me on the inside anymore when i’m with someone else. it used to be really hard for me to want someone else, it used to always be you you you you you, no matter what scenario. always you, no matter what shit that fucked up between other people and i, as long as you and i were okay i was okay.

whenever i try to actually have a conversation with substance to you, you go automatically go into defense mode, which makes it impossible to talk to you.

i’m not going to let you bring me down you. if you want to talk, have me do some homework for you, have me do some homework with you, just say the fucking word and i’ll be there for you when you need me. you just have to tell me what i can do to help you, because i love it when you’re happy. even when we’re not together, i love making you happy. i don’t know why i even try, because i always mess up somehow, and you never seem to think i’m trying hard enough (which is understandable)

i don’t know what else to say, i don’t know if you’re going to bother to read this. i don’t know if currently you hate me from the depths of your soul (this happens often i feel like) but i’m just being honest with you. i allow myself to continue being hurt by you because it’s what you’ve always done to me, and it’s solid to me. in some fucked up way, i know that you’re going to always be upset or dissatisfied with me and that brings me comfort.