sickened by reality

I wish people were as good as I knew they could be.  I wish everything was perfect, always.  I wish life was a book so I could flip to the back and read the ending. 

I wonder if I’m going to freeze to death.

All I know is that the financial situation is dire.  I don’t know how bad it is, no one will tell me.  I’m so tired of being cold.  Sometimes my hands are so cold they ache. 

“I’ll tell you how it haunts me.”

I wish I could go away.  Somewhere warm.  Somewhere I could be alone and no one would ever have to see me.  Pretend to like me.  Everything could be perfect. 

I find myself bitterly awaiting some kind of normalcy that I know won’t come.  I wait for a solution that will never come.  I wait for someone to take me out of this freezing chasm, but there’s nothing that can be done.  Once again, I’m left to solve my own problems.

I don’t know how to solve them anymore.

If I’m so fucking smart, why haven’t I found a way to get out of here?  It’s because I have a heart.  I’m too fucking sentimental.  Too fucking nice.  Too unwilling to break my mother’s heart, even if it would mean my own self-preservation.  Fuck my heart.  Fuck love. 

Where has love ever gotten me?  Even just liking people has caused me nothing but distress.  I don’t want friends.  They just desert me.  I don’t want family-they bind me to this icy prison. 

I want no one.  Strangly enough, the feeling’s mutual.