Saturday, October 18, 2008,
These are the songs I listen to. Day-in, day-out. All the frickin time.
These are the songs that have slowly made my life hell, slowly destroyed what is left of my heart, slowly made me realize how completely worthless I can make my life.
These songs form the basis for my undeniable hurt. These songs hold the words I wrote for you, words that came from the depths of who I am. Or rather, who I was.
Who I am no longer exists.
I am a shell, body still present, soul, gone.
Whisked away on the breath that was used to sing these songs the first time.
I wonder when it won’t hurt anymore.
I wonder when I’ll really stop caring, when I’ll stop pretending to smile, and actually smile.
These songs bring a rush of memories, feelings, thoughts, and finally tears.
And sometimes I can’t cry.
I feel the tears, but push them back. You were never worth my tears. Or so they all say.
These songs are my weapon of choice, slowly taking life away, until all that will be left of me are the lyrics I wrote on a napkin, sitting and talking to you, alone, in my pretend world.
These songs are what I wish I had the courage to say to you. But courage has never been my strength.
Fear is what held me to you.
Fear of being alone, fear of losing what I knew, fear of change.
And maybe a tiny bit of love was masked by that fear.
But you don’t want to hear those words.
I love you.
It hurts.
You.
Me.
Love.
That’s all that’s left.
A tangible object we can not touch.
It’s mangled, twisted, grotesque.
But it’s love.
And it always will be.
Always,
Bee.
9:12 PM
