I torture myself with every word
Those said and those unspoken
Looking for the meaning behind them
Laying myself open to their truth
I bathe myself in it
Seeking those things that hurt
Just so that I can feel
Just to avoid the emptiness
Numb for years and years
Looking for solace in anything
I cut myself upon the words
Seeking respite in the pain
I hold it close to my heart
Seething and burning
Worn like a cursed saint
My maleficent protector
When there is nothing but pain
The violence escalates
Feeding on itself
And breeding its filth
Corroding and consuming
Eradicating and extirpating
Destroying everything it touches
Until I am empty again
Where once I found perverted solace
There is abject nothingness
And the cycle ends
Waiting to begin again
I would give it all to you
If I thought you could handle it
If I thought you could survive
But you are not my salvation
I never asked for any of this
I just wanted to be normal
Instead I found comfort in pain
And gave it everything I was
I do not seek your ruin
The way you seek mine
I’ll destroy myself soon enough
With your help or without
Do I go on
Or does it end here
Where do I find the will
To choose one or the other
The words are on my tongue,
But they cannot pass my lips.
I try to speak my peace,
But my brain says cease.
I only wish to express,
The things I cannot confess.
How I burn for you,
Or how I love the things you do.
A feeling started too young,
And dreams of things undone.
I kept you away where I could see,
Hoping one day you and I could be.
Now that day has come,
And I can’t get it begun.
So I bide my time again,
And wish for a time unseen.
Your version of single is very different than mine. When you look back, you look back with knowing and understanding. You look back and you get to remember those past relationships that you had, even though they failed.
Me? I get to look back and remember my fuck ups. I look back and hear “oh man! Do you remember her? That was one of the ones you fell in love with! But do you remember what she thought it was? She just thought you two were really good friends. She said you were like her brother, you dumb sack of shit! Her brother! Ha! How could you not see she didn’t feel the same way? Idiot!”
There are no truly happy memories for me. All of my relationships weren’t, even when I thought they were. No matter what I thought, it was always wrong. They never called me boyfriend or thought of me as anything other than friend. For whatever reason, I wasn’t good enough to be that for them, not even when they told me things they didn’t tell their boyfriends. I was always on the outside looking in.
Your version of single is a separation. You are in between relationships. Maybe you’re actually looking forward to it because you haven’t been “just you” in a while. You’ve been here before and you’re pretty sure it will change soon enough.
For me, it’s a void. It is a complete and utter lack of anything. I don’t know if it will ever end. I never even wanted this, I just have to survive it.
You wonder who the next one will be. I wonder if I’m going to die alone eating lead.
It’s kind of hard to accept that I was pity fucked. It’s degrading. She didn’t have any sort of interest in me, she just did it because she felt bad.
All I can really think to say here is “I wanted to feel pretty”, which is kind of absurd to think as a male, but it’s mostly true. I wanted to feel desired, like I fucking mattered.
I felt nothing like that. I could tell she was bored. That hurt. She didn’t even really try to make it seem like she cared, although she certainly fucking loved it when I ate her out. She didn’t really seem to care whether I liked it or not.
It hurts. It was my first time and it was degrading. I enjoyed it in the moment, but it has only caused me more issues. It wasn’t what I wanted. Not fully. I did want sex, but I didn’t want meaningless sex. I wanted something special, something I could remember fondly. What I got was… I don’t know, but it certainly wasn’t what I wanted.
I’m sorry things got weird. We had a connection, I thought that meant it might lead to something more than friendship. The movies lied to me, they told me that’s how it works. They don’t bother telling me that most times, it doesn’t mean anything.
How was I supposed to know otherwise? Nobody told me that part. You just seemed like an awesome chick and we got along so well, so I thought we could be more than friends. I didn’t mean to make it awkward, I just didn’t want to be alone anymore.
I got confused. Nobody ever listens to me, so when you did, I thought it was because you liked me back. My friends never treated me that way, so I missed the cues. It didn’t help that you’re flirty, but I should’ve known it didn’t mean anything, it never does. I should’ve known I wasn’t special to you.
I still think about you; wonder how you are. I could ask, but it hurts to talk to you. I’ve gotten better about not looking at your Facebook profile, and I deleted the pictures you sent. I wish we could still be in each others lives, but I’m too ashamed of how it ended and too hurt by the loss. Maybe another time, but not now.
Goodbye, and remember that I cared for you once.