I don’t really know how to start. I get the feeling that I lost two friends that mean the world to me and I think I know exactly why and I’m so sorry. I don’t really know what to do about it and I get it if they don’t want to talk to me anymore. It’s completely understandable and I guess I just need some sort of closure. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for not being able to pick you up at the airport. If I had my way, I would’ve picked you up anyway, no matter what happened. I ended up screaming at my mother to let me do so, but, you guys know my mother. She can be so paranoid sometimes, and her thought process no longer makes sense. It stopped making sense in Junior year and I love her to death but I’m so glad I live on my own now. I’m so sorry though. It was unforgivable to do that to you and to just leave you on your own. I felt so horrid that I didn’t know how to face either of you at KCon. You guys have been there for me through some of the worst parts of my life. You’ve seen me fall apart and you’ve seen me in downright despair. You put up with my lying problem and forgave me for it. You guys were there when I was stuck with a man that I didn’t want to be with and that sexually assaulted me and helped me fight through my mother’s menopause. I guess I just don’t want to lose you guys in this way and honestly I’d do anything to have you guys back but I get it. Friends drift away and I get that. I guess I just want to know if I did anything wrong to make you guys leave. Cause I’ve done a lot wrong and I never treated you guys the way you should have been treated and I’m so sorry. Maybe it’s my anxiety talking, maybe it’s not. You guys put up with a lot and for that I am thankful. You guys did a lot for me and it’s not something that I could ever forget. Maybe I’m just scared. I’ve lost a lot of people recently. Sorry.
My boss is dying. His timeline is down to 1-2 months. I had a nightmare that I sat by his gravestone, painting upon it memories of good times gone by. I woke up and found that his cancer came back, rearing an ugly head that once severed grows twice back. I don’t know what do anymore. Where to run, where to hide. I need rest. A moment’s break. What do I do now?
I am so tired. So tired of getting nowhere. One step forward, two steps back, a constant rhythmic dance to no place in particular. I have worked so hard to get to such a confused state of mind that I’m not sure what to do. I love my family and I love them so much it hurts. To even think of doing what I want to do, to even try to attempt it, I don’t know. I don’t know what they want anymore. I am deplorable. Unable to fulfill the commands of parents. Unable to decide for myself. What can I do? I am so tired. I’m making steps forward on a rocky road, but I am doing it barefoot and it hurts. It is so painful. I want to sit down and lay my head to rest, I am so tired. I just want to pursue a dream, a dream my sibling is allowed to pursue and yet I am not. In the name of education, I will risk a life of misery. But I don’t want to. And yet, how can I leave them be? To fend for themselves? To leave them here with faces of disappointment at the person I did not become and the person that I want to be. I am so tired of working so hard to get nothing done. To watch myself go into a hole. To watch as opportunities pass me by. I am so tired of living alone in a house full of people. To watch as they smile. So proud. Of who I am trying to be for them. But I don’t want to anymore. I am so tired.
There was a dream of someone last night. Who, I cannot remember. It was familiar and frightening. I dreamed of near rape. I dreamed of a savior. Who? I woke before then. So I wonder. Who was the savior and who frightened me so? I have become scared. Paranoid of the night.
I don’t think I can be in a relationship again. The care that is given, the nurture, the willingness to listen. Only, only. Only to be used, to be abandoned, abused, thrown down and destroyed, to realize that you are not someone to be loved, but only a fetish. Something that only someone with a fetish would ever be even remotely attracted to. To know that, and to realize that. Only now, have I realized. How long has it taken me to know this. Why? I should have realized it sooner. I live only to be ruined. Cracked beyond repair. To have my hopes risen. To have a hug so perfect, so comforting. As if it would take all the cracks and repair them. But they have been taped hastily with duct tale and when that is ripped, it is painful. Mind-numbingly painful. To be in such a hole of despair, that the moment a hand is stretched down, you do not question but to grab a hold of it. You forget to question. To ask if that hand is here to save you, or if it is simply wondering what the hole was for. So when you forget to ask, and you grab a hold of that hand, your heart full of hope, and your eyes only seeing the escape lit open for you and when that hand draws back in disgust, shock, fear, you can only despair. After all, you simply forgot to ask.
I’ve read somewhere that an oxen and a crab are the perfect match. Is that so true? Or was that there, simply to make me happy for just one glimpse of life. Two hours. That was all. It happened all over again. And will continue to be so. The oxen will ride off, away from the danger as the crab is caught in a net, cooked and served. A delicious feast for the unsuspecting oxen.
Has my waiting stopped? Will some one help me? For once. To lift me out of this hole an dguide me albeit a short while? Do not get your hopes up. They will be ruined.
Thank you. For two hours, I was happier than I had been for a very long time. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart. A wonderful birthday present out of simply one other. A prickly cactus. So thank you Mr. Oxen. Thank you for two hours of purely just being able to relax again. It was a blissful moment away from the harsh reality of a life so ruined by a so-called love. Thank you.
– Ms. Crab
Am I done yet? Learning the same lesson over and over again. I get it. I get it. I’ve learned it through and through now. Nobody will want this. Those hopes will forever be raised and crushed like an ant underneath a boot. I get it. So stop the lesson. Let the clock cease it’s ticking. So let me be. Let there be a happiness. A hug strong enough to cease the worries. A hand that will hold mine, so perfectly. A thumb that will rub away the worries. A small, reassuring squeeze. But let it last longer than a moment. Longer. Just a little bit. To let me climb out of a hole and walk a path. To see daylight. Someone help me. Hold me. Guide me. I am calling. I am waiting.