Apathy is good and bad at the same time. It prevents you from being emotionally affected by the world around you, making it easier to keep a distance from those you don't want to get close to. The downside is that those you keep close by your side can hurt you more than you think. You can smile about it, put up a facade, hide the pain, do whatever is necessary, but once you're alone, the hurt surfaces. I'm asking that no matter what, you suck it up and still love them the same way, no matter how deeply they hurt you. Even if they don't care about you, even if you're just a friend, or a shoulder they use to lean on, even with all the cruel jokes they make and insist that it is nothing more than a joke. They can treat you good and treat you bad, call you their brother or their bitch; though it hurts, you must not show it. Your tears will only feed their ego.
I know, I know. Blah blah blah nobody gives a fuck about your broken heart, but you know something? Most days... I'm not even sure what I'm upset about
Mortality
Goodbyes are depressing... mainly because you never expect to say it or think it is anything more than a "see you tomorrow" kind of thing. But life is unpredictable and you will seldom achieve what you had aspired to, or you will succumb to societys expectations; and when you lose someone and don't even get the chance to say goodbye, knowing fully... deep down in your heart that the person they were looking at wasn't the real you... that's soul crushing.
Chat logs
On my oldest, functioning computer, I have chat logs extending back to 2006. It's so hauntingly beautiful how much has changed... how much I've changed.
Reading these logs from 2006 to 2011 brings up so many undesirable feelings and memories I thought I had left in the past... and raises so many unanswered questions.
How did I become so heartless as opposed to being so sympathetic when I was younger?
How did I go from loving my ex-best friend to not talking to her anymore?
But from what I observed the most from reading all these logs... why does love hurt so much?
It's horrible to know that the people I have ill feelings towards I hurt less than those I care for, and vice versa. So much has changed... and it's funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back... everything's different.
Reading these logs from 2006 to 2011 brings up so many undesirable feelings and memories I thought I had left in the past... and raises so many unanswered questions.
How did I become so heartless as opposed to being so sympathetic when I was younger?
How did I go from loving my ex-best friend to not talking to her anymore?
But from what I observed the most from reading all these logs... why does love hurt so much?
It's horrible to know that the people I have ill feelings towards I hurt less than those I care for, and vice versa. So much has changed... and it's funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back... everything's different.
Eye can't see
I've always been good at hiding my emotions, but every now and then you noticed the little things. A small sigh under my breath that I didn't even realise I had made, or maybe I didn't put the 'smile' into my eyes quite fast enough. You asked me what was wrong, and I blew it off with a silly, semiplausible excuse like "I'm just really tired" or "ha little sighs are a habit I picked up from my dad, I don't even realise I'm doing it sometimes." I didn't wan't you to worry about me, but it felt good that you asked. It felt good that you showed you noticed, and even more important that you cared.
But you also believed me when I lied, and soon the tiny cues that I was having trouble keeping my head up wen't straight past you and you no longer showed me that you noticed, or that you cared. And I know it's my fault. And now that I've shut that door I have noone else that cares.
But you also believed me when I lied, and soon the tiny cues that I was having trouble keeping my head up wen't straight past you and you no longer showed me that you noticed, or that you cared. And I know it's my fault. And now that I've shut that door I have noone else that cares.
escape
I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others-- only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his ribcage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad
Self respect
We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and-- in spite of True Romance magazines-- we shall someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely-- at least, not all the time-- but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.
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