Dying Inside

I’d say that about covers it.  Yet there’s so much more.  How does one explain exactly how it feels to wonder?  How do you explain how disillusioned you’ve become?  How do you express the pain and longing and hurt and anger that everyone says you shouldn’t feel anymore, because you should be "over it?"

How does one get "over" something like this?

I don’t seem to believe in anything anymore except cold, hard facts.  Emotions are a waste of time.  Friendships don’t seem to matter to me anymore.  The very idea of love is laughable now.  I don’t deny it’s there; I see it between Melanie and Matt.  I see it between Dolly and Zeb.  It’s an almost tangible force that one can not only see the eveidence of, but can actually see when the people look at one another.  I don’t doubt love is there for them.  But thy seem to exist on a completely different plane of existence than I do.  Because love doesn’t exist where I am.  It’s just non-emotional, cold, hard facts.

Yet sometimes I go to the edge of that precipice and I look . . .  I’m never sure for what.  Maybe what I’m missing?  But then I tell myself I’ve already been there and this is where it brought me.  It seems like I was headed this way the entire time.  To the point of just not caring.

It doesn’t hurt so much when you’re alone, if you simply don’t care that you are.  And that’s more or less where I am.  I simply don’t care.  I’m alone.  I have a couple of friends who are, save one, long distance.  I talk to a handful of people, but in the long run, they’re nothing to me.  Hell, one of them is one of the people who helped shatter my heart into a thousand pieces and continued me on the road I travel now.  Alone.

I don’t feel close to anyone.  Yet there are a couple, one in particular, who I still try to help, mostly because no one should feel this way.  No one should be in this position, or worse.

Yet the funny thing is, I truly don’t know if I want to change.  Yeah, people can say letting others in is worth it in the long run, that I’ll find people who’ll stay by my side, that I won’t be alone.

It’s not true.  I thought I’d found that group of friends.  I thought I’d found people who would be by my side.  Who I could hang out with.  Who I could have fun around.

You know what I discovered?

They weren’t my friends.  The only reason they accepted me as long as they did was because Mike still cared about me.  As soon as he let me go, they dropped their pretense of kindness.

I wish they’d never shown that pretense in the first place.  I wish they’d shown theircontempt and been done with it instead of being the f–kin’ cowards that they are.

Who the Hell is even worthwhile?  Apparently I’m not.  So if I’m not, why should I consider anyone else worth it?

I wish that someone would just come out and tell me what is so deplorable about me that everyone feels the need to eventually abandon me.  I’ve asked similar questions in my diary before, but no one who knows me in real life has the guts to answer me.

Just once, I wish someone would.  Not someone with some stupid, unfounded, bias hatred.  But someone who’s a third party who’s actually seen both sides.  Instead of listening to one and pretending to understand mine.

I wish I could say I still cared.  I wish I could say there’s some little part of me who still knows that people matter to her.

But, while yeah, I’d be sad and cry and be upset and regret things should one of the people I can think die, I can’t bring myself to care all that much about staying in contact with anyone who still is talking to me.  Sure, I’ll have fun IMing people on a superficial level, but that’s it.  I don’t want to go any deeper.

Why is it that I hear about other people’s problems and I feel I can save them, or help them save themselves, but I can’t save myself?

Maybe I don’t want to be saved . . .