|
ferna
|
I think the worst thing about life and getting older is realizing exactly how cruel the world can be. How people will get to know you, to love you, will wrap themselves deeply into your life and your heart, and when they are there will still not hesitate to knife you.
How people are cowardly and petty and mean, how they seek revenge and act on lust. How morals and ethics are easily shelved, how the durable shatter the fragile.
How some are left crying while others move on.
How some with strong hearts and pure intentions die in pain, and how warped, blithely cruel people live on to wound others more and more.
I don't want to believe that the world is this way but I know it is.
Last night my mother talked to me in my dreams, for what seemed like hours. She was concerned about me, about my life. She was getting ready to die, writing at her table, working on putting her affairs in order. She was very sick. She looked at me, deeply, and was so worried, so concerned at what she saw.
And I know that her concern was my concern. That I feel like I am dying too. That I hate myself, the way I am, the way I've been since she died.
I woke up needing to talk to my someone, but no one was around. I called all of my closest friends, all of my family, and no one was there.
And now I'm at school and there's some sort of party going on with James and his group of friends. His girlfriend, his team. They're having cake for someone's birthday and James is making everyone laugh.
And I wonder where I could be, where I would be, had he not abused me so badly. He beat me up in every way possible, violated my trust and my faith. It makes me scared to do anything but be alone. I feel like a cauterized wound, open but not bleeding, seared off and gaping. And I'm scared of myself, of how sad I've been and how much I still hurt. I'm scared because I visit that pain on other people, people I love.
I'm scared because his voice still makes me cry, sitting here, a wall's thickness away from his open happiness and her high-pitched trill of a laugh.
I'm scared because I can't stop crying, I'm scared I can't be happy anymore.
I'm scared because I know I'm hormonally imbalanced, but I won't stop being this way until I'm in my late 40's. I'm scared because I have to work so hard at being loveable. I have to work hard to not sacrifice the people I love to my fears.
I want to run away. I can't stop crying and I'm embarassed. I hope no one sees me.
|
070401
|
