You’re Dead to Me?

Why do you keep me stuck in between holding on and letting go?

When I asked you what you wanted,

You said you wanted space.

You said you wanted to be left alone.

You said you needed time to get your shit together.

I said “okay, I can give you space.” But the look on your face said you wanted more than space.

So I continued, “Do you want to be left alone for now or forever?”

“For now,” you said, unconvincingly.

My heart broke slightly more with each passing second. 

“Do I even matter to you?”

“You matter…to a certain extent. But nothing  really matters”

“Uh, okay John Green. Sure oblivion is inevitable and we’re all going to die, but do you care about what I want? Do you care about me?”

“…..uh….not really…sometimes…”

“How are we friends if you don’t care about me?”

“I don’t care about what’s important to you.”

Under my breathe, “what’s the fucking difference?” Then louder, “If you didn’t want a friend, why try to be my friend in the beginning?”

“…because I’m an asshole.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. So what happens if I don’t leave you alone”

“I’ll just ignore you”

“Okay…”

End of conversation. 

After that you started ignoring my texts and calls.

Was it the apathy and depression talking? Your self-loathing post teen angst.

Or did I never mean anything to you.

I never got to ask why you said ‘love you’ the other day when we parted ways.

I never got to ask if I was special to you.

I never got to ask why not just tell me to leave you alone forever if you didn’t care about me anyway.

There’s exactly a month until I leave. Until you’ll never have to see me again or hear my voice. 30 days. And hopefully I’ll never have to feel this way again.

Empty and depressed and anxious one second and feeling like I’m going to vomit the next.

Soon, I’ll be dead to you. No longer holding on or letting go. Just gone forever.

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All I’ve Ever Wanted is to be an ORIGINAL.

Yeah, that’s right.

I never wanted to be a doctor or lawyer or teacher or astronaut or rocket scientist.

I just wanted to grow up to be different.

Think different.

Act different.

I wanted to be an Original

Break the status quo.

  1. Choose my own path.
  2. Live my own dream.
  3. Stay inside the lines long enough to gain their trust.
  4. Then start wrecking havoc.

I wanted to be…

  • A misfit.
  • A rebel.
  • A troublemaker.

 

I never quite wanted to fit in.

But then I turned 23. And now I’m expected to grow up and get a high paying job. Buy a car and a house. And work every day for the rest of forever.

But what so original about that?

-(Rule)

You are not your thoughts.

Let me repeat that. You are not your thoughts.

Somewhere in history you became programmed to believe that everything you think and feel are representations of who you are.

But that’s just not true.

You can’t control what pops into your head.

You can’t control the thoughts of depression, anxiety, fear, jealousy, disappointment, anger, or sadness.

There is a reason why you don’t automatically say your thoughts aloud.

Because while your thoughts are yours, you are not your thoughts.

You are your actions. 

A Shout Into The Void

I want to scream.

I want to scream louder than I have in my entire life.

Not because I had a bad day or because something is terribly wrong.

I just want to be heard.

I want my pain to be felt.

I want my anxiety to be noticed.

I want someone to actually listen.

But, 99.9% of the people in the world never listen.

They’re either too easily distracted, bored, or think they’re so damn clever that they won’t stop thinking about their witty comeback long enough to hear your actual problem.

I wish you would just shut up for once, and listen.

-(Rule)

Why we sell ourselves short…(or why I do)

I always sell myself short.

In life.

In love.

In school.

In work.

In myself.

I always accept what I’m given.

I don’t fight for more.

I don’t even ask for more.

Why not?

Because I don’t believe I’m worth more.

I’m not worthy of better friends, more money, louder laughter, greater adventures, or truer loves.

I tell myself I’m not worthy and the world responds by treating me like I’m not.

I’m walked over, talked over, looked over, and pushed over.

Not anymore.

I can no longer sell myself short.

I’m taking back my worth, for myself.

My life cannot be measured.

How? 

Simple.

My…self-worth, self-esteem, self-love are infinite. 

…And so are yours.

-(Rule)