I'm so endlessly tired of being a receiver.
I'm so endlessly tired of holding the roof over his head.
Arbitrary anger; i yell at you about it. I tell you to stop, and you don't because you can't, and I shouldn't, because i know what it's like.
i miss you.
i want everything back.
i keep telling myself to wait it out.
but this haunted house in longer than i thought.
and i'm not getting used to all the ghosts that keep popping out from behind the walls.
even still, i know it isn't an option. and i know, that even if it was, i wouldn't go back.
i never wanted to hurt you. but because of who i am, you were hurting me without ever even knowing it. i wish you could have changed- but i know i wouldn't have allowed it. i wish i could ignore that part of you. but the truth of the matter is, i can't. so i had to hurt you. just once. for the last time. i didn't mean for it to feel this way. i didn't mean for it to matter.
i'm always underestimating my body's ability to use emotions
to make petty things seem ever so important.
it does it practically all the time. and i'm a hypocrite because i hate those conversations.
the least you can do is be ashamed of how petty you are.
i mean honestly
i don't want to hear it anymore. any of it. i don't want to hear about her ever again.
and i want you to just fucking stop it.
you're stronger than this, and you're in denial. you are still holding on.
GET ANGRY. why won't you get fucking angry. the problem is you keep running back to her. keep contacting her. you try again and try again and try again and try again but you never realize that there's a difference between caring and being a fucking doormat, boy. if she contacts you, don't fucking answer. some people are just so fucked up, that in their attempts to reach out, they just end up fucking everybody else up in the process, just like a goddamn infectious disease.

I wish you'd just disappear, Mr. Bear. Take your honey, and save it for somebody who likes it. I love that you want to share it with me. I love that you have good manners and treat me right. But I don't want your honey, so please, just stop sending me jars in the mail. Stop wanting to send me jars in the mail. You're breaking my heart, and it isn't fair that I'd have to break yours just because you think i should have some of that famous glossy syrup. Why can't I just fucking like it? Why can't I just want some fucking honey. I don't want to lose you Mr. Bear. But if I don't take your honey soon, I think I could.

I want to go home.
I keep thinking that
and then I realize
that I already am home.
and then i really just don't know what to do.
i feel so panicky and nervous and trapped and lost.
i have no idea what's going on inside of my own fucking head.
it's all just a bunch of static, and it's killing me.