The typical Sunday blahs

Spent the day with my 2 youngest boys, but just like that the days over, they’re back home, I’m dying here wishing I had more time.

It’s like picking a scab and the wound won’t heal and won’t heal right. A nasty scar sits there to constantly remind you of the wound.

They live the life I worked to give them. The torture of taking them home where the world I had, the world I loved im not allowed to touch.

No wonder it seems I’ve given up.

I resent to fact that love means sacrifice. I think that’s a stupid phrase. Why should my love for her make me feel happy that she is happy? God that sounds like an excuse some lying cheating person said to feel less guilty.

I’ve never heard how’s it’s both persons having to ” set something free….” It’s always one person who has to.

On the other side of things I wish I could be a resentful fucktard who hates those who wronged me with the passion of 100 dying suns. I can’t because at the end of the day those others are right about me. Thing is I could’ve changed if she would have just talked to me, if anyone could have.

My therapist and psychiatrist have fancy names for what I do, think, and say and I’m sure they’d have a field day with all I have written. It’s just when it keepss going to shit whether or not I do or don’t do something it all weighs on me so heavily.