I do...
You asked me if I felt lonely. I do, and I feel it more every day as I chase the things I want to do in my life. It's always been that way. I'm always stuck here by myself in my own head. I'm shouting to the fucking world and it's like no body can hear me. And when they do, they laugh and tell me what I'm doing is foolish, that I should do "this" or "that" instead. I'm asked, "what are your plans?" And I know, that if I tell them my true plans.. I'll get this look of, "what is he thinking, that'll never work." Or "Why can't he just be normal" I hate that I went through your phone and seen that you see me in the same regard. I think that pushed me away more than the love letter you wrote to another man. I hate that when I tell people who I am I feel distanced from them. As if I'm some kind of alien. This foreign being that no one seems to be able to connect with. Why do I always feel so alone. Why is who I want to be such a bad thing. Why is it that everyday I have to fight to be happy with so many "loved ones" in my life? Why can't I find someone who understands? Why can't I find someone who smiles back at me with joy when I tell them what I'm doing instead of this look of sadness because I'm leaving them even though I'm within arms reach. I'm sick of watching this look of despair and sadness when I tell someone I'm doing what i love. I'M DOING WHAT CATERS TO MY SOUL AND I FEEL LIKE IM DESTROYING THE WORLD THAT WAS PRE-BUILT AROUND ME. IT COMES CRASHING DOWN ON ME AND I HAVE NO WHERE TO LOOK BUT IN A MIRROR AND TELL MYSELF THAT ITS OKAY ONE DAY IT'LL BE BETTER ONE DAY YOU'LL MAKE IT AND THEY'LL ALL SEE.... But why can't they see me now? I'm right here in front of them.... So why does it feel like I'm being looked through? Like I'm made of this glass that shows them a future someone that I'm not and WILL NEVER be... Why is it when someone asks me if I'm okay I just say, "yeah those are just song lyrics, I'm fine" instead of, "no I feel broken and torn inside. I want you reach out and help me" Now I feel like I'm so backed into a corner that I attack any hand that moves towards me. In fear that they're all here to hurt me. I'm done hurting. I just want to move forward off this dark wall and walk the grassy plain in front of me. But I feel so many daggers in my back when I move forward, and the grassy plain looks more like a mirage in a dessert than a real place in front of me. I just want... to be.. me.











