Get a tissue, you won’t want to catch any of this.
I can’t take this any more. I will, as I have so far, die slowly inside while my soul rots in this accursed existence, my lips smiling warmly to the people in my life now. This is hell. I am past drama, I am past puberty, pride, hope… I don’t care for anything any more. You should take yourself seriously, always take yourself seriously and make sure your actions are full out, consequences be damned! There is so much pain in depths that can only be described as “beyond”, that I listen to a song and burst into burning tears, nearly choking on air that tastes of razor blades, and remembering I told myself I need to be strong more times than I can count. I can hardly think straight writing this… There is only one thing that can bring this much pain to a man, if I dare call myself that. My life went on, but I did not live, I could not. I have tried everything I could think of and anything I heard anyone say… It has been three years, I thought I was cured, I found out I wasn’t, obviously. Have I not had closure? Do – I – have to die alone? It is what I should do but I can not gather the courage to let the one who loves me go, and yet each moment I procrastinate the darkness within me grows deeper and her love grows stronger so what happens when I break? I fear I will break, for I feel my life is almost over. I have not lived, I have nothing but memories which get dimmer with each morning, and the first thought that bursts into my newly open mind is Her face, that I love and hate with such intensity it makes my heart beat harder and hands shake nigh uncontrollably. It is thanks to my ability to repulse people that I managed to keep this secret. It is relieving and frustrating at the same time, because I can hardly contain myself and my emotional diarrhea, pardon the simile… I do my best to keep it inside and not bother anyone, but when the pressure gets too high I often lose focus and my true feelings leak out drop by drop. I can’t let it be known because I will feel even more ashamed and pathetic, always finding a new low for myself, like a dark abyss that just keeps extending. I wonder whether I have anyone left who is near me… because the smell they’d be ignoring is becoming ridiculously obvious though there are those whom I don’t wish to hurt, just in case they would care. Reading these lines, I would wager you don’t feel sympathy, but disgust instead, and that is completely normal. It is I that is worse for feeling the need for your pity, which is why I write here. I go anonymously to the internet in order to lie to strangers what I should be telling my friends in person. This is my abominable self, and you now see why I hate it. I feel drained and pathetic. A lowly speck of matter wasting its energy in meaningless pursuit of other matter in the short time it has. I am an affront to creation itself. I nearly killed myself over it once but decided life was worth living, and I would be right, but… It has been three years since and I have not lived… for even a week. I will not die for I am already dead. I just wish… I would have never been born. There is no relief from it, there is no escape. Tell me of a hell, more painful than this. I wish for a way to give my life for something that mattered. Two birds with one stone and perhaps… the one good deed would grant me absolution.
~Oblivion
