dear you

dear you,

there are so many things that i would love to say to you but that i always prevent myself from verbalizing. i try to set my pride aside in hopes that things like human decency and consideration and care for mankind will prevail but i suppose that is all too fantastical for the real world...especially since you always have something else in mind. well look you...i'm sorry that you feel that i am inadequate and several of the tasks that i perform each day. i am sorry that you feel like i take too much time and energy when i sit down to tackle matters from the office. furthermore, i am sorry that you don't like the closeness with which i pursue my friendships. it's not really something i can help. sometimes i feel like it is a gift and a curse. i care too much and i get hurt...but somehow it's always you who ends up frustrated and angry and it's always you who gets the sympathy and reaps the positive benefits in the end. go figure. i'm sorry that my schedule doesn't revolve around you. i know you would like for it to, as you feel you are the center of the universe sometimes...but it really can't. you see, i have several huge things going on in my life right now...my family is still mourning, my mother is most likely dying and still hates me but is too psychotic to show it everyday, my brother is going to be twenty years old in december and still doesn't have his life together or a life plan for that matter, my job is one huge disillusion, and my friends...well...you know how that is, don't you? you're one of them, right? in fact, you embody all of them? you are the friend that doesn't show when she is supposed to, you are the one that i reach to call when i am at my lowest point but doesn't pick up because she has better things to do, you are the one who leaves me stranded for hours before i find out you aren't showing simply because i finally picked up the phone, not you, and you are the one who talks about me being my back after asking me for a favor. well you...fuck you. fuck you for fucking me up. fuck you for fucking me up the way you always do, the way i let you, because you're you. you digust me. i know, i deserve it, right? that's why you fuck me over so often? that's why you have had me numb the last couple of weeks...until this post? numb is a weird not-feeling. it kind of leaves you stranded in dead space, staring, wishing, wondering, thinking...about blank. that's what it's like to feel numb. but you wouldn't know that feeling, would you? no. because you are always on top of the world. you live there, in your perfect bubble, where everything that goes wrong gets deflected onto me, right? it's funny. you know what really bugs me about you? it's that you never even think you've done anything wrong. you live in your world in your bubble and i know you know i am upset and hurting and you continue to exist peacefully, uninterrupted. maybe i wish i was you for that. but, unfortunately, i am not. occassionally, when i slip out of the numb state, i still feel. and i often feel this stinging pain. it creeps from my core through my soul and then stops at my heart right before it travels to my eyes where it makes its way out for all to see and shame me with. damn. the power you have. you get to do whatever you want, say whatever you want, have people dote on you whenever you want, without any return or consequence. wow. but i'm the bad guy. i'm the bad guy. that's what i've been told all of my life. i'm this big and bad and horrible person who comes into people's lives and does more harm than good, right? so why does god even keep me here? why shouldn't i just leave? what good am i? can you answer that for me? you seem to have all of the answers. at least that's what you want me to believe. truth is...i never like to hurt anyone. i have this love inside of me that i was always forced to keep silent. a love that i used to get yelled at and cursed at and sent to my room for showing. no emotion. no fear. no weakness. but that love still stayed. it still lived. and the tough exterior that i am pegged to have? it's just that. exterior. i'm soft to touch on the inside. all i have ever wanted were safe venues to express that love. i just want to love. i know what it was like to grow up never saying i love you until you were thirteen. thirteen. thirteen years old. thirteen years keeping that inside. if i've ever told you i loved you, i meant it. it isn't something i take lightly. but you trample on that every chance you get, don't you? sometimes i just want to see you, chill, talk to you, hear your voice, just to know that things aren't so bad. but you can't even do that. it's too difficult for you...and again, there's this whole schedule thing. i just don't fit in. well...i don't know if there is much i can do about that. i pray a lot. i find that it is relaxing and yet i still find myself searching. god does everything for a reason so i just want to know what the reason is for all of this. the one person to recently cry for me, to express her love for me unsolicited, to say she was proud of me...proud...died. is that a sign? please tell me so i can take it. tell me what it means. do you know? you think you're god, so you should. humans should be so lucky. well i don't want to waste anymore of your time that is so clearly a hassle for you to spend on me most of the time. i'm sure to end my letter to you this way will seem weak but it's truly how i feel and what is at the forefront of my brain right now...

i still love you...it just hurts when i realize it.