Rant

Day 3: -sigh- I'm losing it. I can't think, I can barely function. Somehow I've managed to become re-addicted to sex. Part of me understands that what I really need right now is a friend but all I can think about is just fucking, drinking, smoking n cutting all my pain away. All I wanna do is torture myself til there's nothing left. I don't wanna be even a memory. Every awful break up I go through this is the initial process. Solitude, torture, mindless self indulgence whenever I can get around to it. I want payback for all my suffering but I know I'll never get it. There seems to be no justice in my world and that gives everyone the liberty to do with me what they will. They don't see me...they see what I did, the way I lived my life. They see my scars and they judge me because of it and I'm sick of it. I'm not even 100% sure if I have enough strength to be angry anymore. I just take it and take it and let it build up continuously. Part of me wonders how many people would be upset if I died. How many of my tormentors would regret doing what they did to me all those years. Would they look me in my closed eyes and whisper how sorry they are for torturing me for so long? That if they knew that this would've happened they'd have tried to help me? Or be nicer to me? Would they feel guilty that all their years of being monsters to me finally wore me down to my core and I couldn't take life anymore? And if they did say all these things could they really look my parents in the eye n tell them how sorry they are? And knowing my mother she'd be furious that these are the people who sent her baby girl to such an early grave. And think of my brothers even. They barely got time to spend with me in my baby days and they have to say goodbye so soon. Of course Chris n my dad would be the 2 stoic figures n all, but I am the baby of both sides any way you take it.

I feel so beyond lost and confused. My addictions are slowly creeping back. Mainly sex. I feel so much like a machine; as I mentioned earlier I just wanna fuck, smoke, drink n cut my frustrations away. But I know if I do cut myself, Andre won't ever touch me again...and that I can't handle. As tempted as I am to do it n hide it from him until its healed...but he touches me, especially my arms so he'd have definitely felt something out of the ordinary. He's the only reason why I haven't turned myself into a Christmas fucking ham yet. I love him so...but the fucked up side of me just wants to...well fuck him. And then there's the emotional half (the one who blogs n writes angry poems about screaming) just wants him to love me. I need him to love me. I wanna be with him. He accepts the fact that I'll never be able to have his children if we do get to that stage. I won't say he's The One, but if forever existed, I know I wanna spend it with him. I want him to fall in love with me. But I won't fuck with the fates this time...no spells, no magic. Just hoping Gaia hears me this time around. But she always does....but with this one I wanna make sure she does.

Blessed Be