Tag: sad

Temporary people leaving permanent memories

 

I know how some people aren’t in your life forever, that they’re just passing through.  But for some reason, I figured that was for other people and not me.  But here I am, scrolling through my Twitter feed and reading about a former friend’s new besties.  She says they’re “her life”.  I remember spending nights texting you and on the phone to you, giving you reasons to live when you were struggling.  I remember us confessing our darkest secrets to each other.  I remember watching fireworks with you, going climbing through woods with you.  I remember when things were at their worst between myself and my now-ex, you handmaking me a birthday card, giving me a big hug and whispering “please don’t kill yourself” into my ear, making me cry.

 

You got a new job, made new friends and just like that I was gone.  Awful fake excuses were made to avoid meeting up, and just like that we weren’t friends anymore.

 

The Girl I Liked, and still do even through she hurt me and some switch flicked in her head stopping her from caring.  If she ever did.  I wish I knew what I did to make her stop calling and texting and wanting to meet up or even doing me the basic courtesy of replying to me when I’m worried sick about her and her baby.  I run through all our interactions in my head on loop at night, trying desperately to find something.  I can be so oblivious sometimes, I can miss huge obvious things.  I wish I knew what was going on inside her head.  I can never be with you but I always want you in my life.  You were so good for my mental health and you were FUN, more fun than anyone else.  You lit up my day when you were around, made me the me of years ago before I became Eeyore.

 

I’ve got Facebook open and see you’re active now, messaging other people and not thinking about me at all.  I remember sitting with you while you got that tattoo a couple of weeks ago.  I remember going with you while you got your eyes examined years ago, walking you home from your first day at college, sitting with you and psyching you up for your first ever job interview.  Sitting with you and calming you down after your family embarrassed you in front of me and it broke your heart.  I remember the chocolate rabbit you got me, out of the blue, the first gift you ever got me.  I remember the day you were so depressed and I got you a t-shirt that you wanted even though it was way too big for you – and I remember the second time I saw you when we reconnected and you were wearing it, and a few weeks after giving birth it fit perfectly.  I remember the day you casually said to me as we were walking down the street, “you know I love you, right?”

 

Is it me?  Something I say or do?  I’m depressed as fuck a lot of the time and I know it shows.  I know that’s off-putting but is it really enough?  Is it because I told her she didn’t owe me anything after she told me how seriously she takes personal debts?  Maybe she just has a new best friend?  Another old friend back in her life, perhaps?

 

My ex, I understand why you cut me off, it’s better for both our sanity that we not try to be friends.  We wanted to be, but all it brought us was pain.

 

I feel awful right now.  Worse than anyone knows.  I won’t kill myself, because I believe that as long as I’m alive, no matter how bad things get, there’s a chance it’ll get better.  It has done once before when I was right on the edge.  A wonderful girl made me a birthday card and gave me a hug and reminded me that I mattered to some people.  She’s moved on now, but who knows what the future might bring?

Not Happy Unless I’m Helping Someone

 

When I was with my ex, until the last two years I was happy.  She had her bipolar downers but I helped her through them.  She made me feel so completely loved and helping her made me feel good.

 

Then we broke up and I felt unloved and empty.

 

Reconnecting with The Girl I Liked, I was able to help talk her through many of her problems, and she always made me feel like I mattered and I felt good.

 

Then she very suddenly became apathetic, and once again I feel unloved and empty.

 

I feel completely without purpose.  Why do anything?  Goals are meaningless, and I’ll still feel unhappy once I achieve them, so why bother?

 

I prefer the company of my more fucked up friends than my well adjusted ones.   I relate to them better.  So what if I get drunk and randomly make out with someone, or even some day go further and fuck them?  It doesn’t mean anything, I likely won’t even like them when I’m sober.  Having notches on my belt doesn’t impress me, having people whose hearts I’m in does – and drunk flings don’t engender that.

 

I’m not even sure where I was going with this, I just needed to spooge it out onto your screen.

Yep, we’re done

 

I hadn’t heard anything from The Girl I Like But Can Never Have in a couple of days, then she calls me on my lunch break at work.  She’s at the hospital because her baby’s had a spill.  The way she tells it, it’s bad and I’m worried sick all evening.  I tell her I’m gonna call as soon as I’m off for an update, she says ok.

 

End of shift.  I call, and no pickup.  I text and nothing.  I’m worried more now, but a voice in my head is saying she’s just ignoring you.  And guess the fuck what??  The voice was right.  I finally get through to her hours later and the baby’s fine, she’s fine.  They’re back home and she’s just had friends over and then had a bath.

 

I told her I was really worried and she gave me fake sounding “I’m sorry I’m such a bad friend” bollocks.  I said she could have just texted so I knew she and her baby were okay but no, she was too busy.  Then she fucking slipped and said that she’s been getting phone calls!  She’s got time to answer them but not me.

 

Fuck you.  You’ll never fucking realise what a good, loyal and loving friend you just lost.  My heart is fucking torn and I want to cry.  I love her so much but this is the breaking point.  My mother (yes, I raged to Mummy) says it’s because she’s used to people not caring about her – which has something to it, the life she’s had – but I think the truth is that she doesn’t care about me at all.  I’m just a resource, and now it’s her newest couple of friends who are getting all the attention –constant phone calls, texting, invites to spend days with her etc- I loved so much weeks ago.  That made me feel like I mattered to someone.

 

I’ve fallen in love twice, both times have been doomed.  This girl hurt me once before, two years ago, and now she’s done it again.  I wish to anything I could just scoop out this feeling and dispose of it.  Because I love her – but I really don’t want to anymore.  And her indifference hurts so much.

 

I said it before and I’ll say it now: It’s karma. I love someone who doesn’t love me as punishment for falling out of love with my ex.  I guess I deserve it.

This might just be goodbye, girl that I love.

So the Girl I Love But Can Never Be With has been acting erratically.  She told me about a miscarriage.  She told me about a lowkey pill popping suicide attempt she made recently which she passed off as a badly upset stomach and swore me to secrecy.  She told me about major problems with her man cheating on her and huge fights they’ve had.  She told me she might lose custody of her child as a result.

So I text her later that day to make sure she’s okay, and I hear nothing back.  I’m worried sick, I text again the day after saying “please text back when you can so I know you and your baby are okay” and again hear nothing.

This morning she was active on Facebook.  She’s just ignoring me.

I think she’s just fucking with my head.  That she’s gotten bored of me and gone on to some other guy who’s now getting all her attention.  That’s what my gut is screaming, and what is screamed before we blew up and didn’t speak for two years.

I’m writing this in case we gets back in contact and spins some blatant bullshit that I gladly gobble up because I’m weak and want her to love me.  I want to remember this feeling next time it happens.  I’ve written but deleted several “Never mind, saw you active on Facebook you were just ignoring your friend who was worrying about you” texts.  I’m just going to leave it.  I’m done reaching out, and if I never hear from her again, that’s that.

We had some good memories and really fun times, and I wish her all the best because – with what I know about her and her situation that I know isn’t bullshit – she’s going to need it, especially if she surrounds herself with men and women who use her for sex, ply her with drugs and give no fucks whether she lives or dies like she used to.

Actually, scrap that.  I wish her child all the best, because he’s the one who’s really going to need it.

 

EDIT:  Sent that text the next day.  She told me she’s pushed everyone away and needs space while she processes all the shit that she’s going through.  I’m stepping back and giving her space – while getting myself used to the idea I’ll not hear from her again.

The paranoid, insecure man that bullying made me

As touched on before, if someone doesn’t text back they hate me or are sick of me and everything I’ve seen from them in the days, weeks and months previous is a lie or they’ve changed their minds since and are now happily texting someone they like more.

 

If someone asks me about a certain event, they’re just mining for gossip, and don’t really care how said events impacted me.  I’m nothing.

 

If I don’t get that job I had the really good interview for, I’m an idiot who can’t tell if the interview is going well or not – and it means I think I’m having a good time with my friends but really they’re not enjoying themselves and that’s why they don’t text back and that’s why they hate me…

 

I was constantly psychologically bullied in high school, and I think this is the result.  Kids would point and laugh at me when I walked up.  It started off as a small group of three or four, but everyone picked up on it and soon it was about eight or ten of them.

 

I knew what they were doing, and at the start I told myself I wasn’t going to believe a word they said,  But after a year, I believed every word they said,  I was fat, I was a useless piece of shit.  I smelled, I was ugly.  They’d claim my family was incestuous.  I remember asking one of the lead bullies what I’d have to do to make them stop.  He replied, “We’ll only stop when you kill yourself”

 

In high school I had no social skills, no conversation skills, I couldn’t talk to girls to save my life.  I was hopeless.  But did I deserve that?  Fuck no.  Nobody does.

 

So one of them would sometimes try to befriend me.  I’d of course be suspicious, but we’d talk during the day and at the end, he’d turn on me and have all his bully friends there and they’d all laugh at me and mock the things I’d said that day.

 

In my adult life, I’m still a little surprised when someone I’ve just met is nice to me, or obviously wants to be my friend or be liked by me.  It’s this weird thing I struggle to get my head around.  Like, don’t they know what a fat, gross, smelly fuckup loser I am?  They could find out at any time!

One Year Today

Today is one year since I was with my ex.  One year since we made love.

 

I barely remember our parting at the airport and I hate myself for that, except that it wasn’t as emotional as our previous goodbyes.  I remember thinking I wouldn’t be back after the fighting we’d done.

 

She did more for me than anyone.  She loved me so much.  I hate myself for falling out of love with her.  I hate myself for not being strong enough to deal with her problems and I hate myself for having feelings for someone else while I was hers.

 

You’ll never read this, but I hope you’re happy.  I hope you’re doing better than me.  I’m so sorry for hurting you.

 

I Can’t Be Bad

For years I’ve wanted to say, “fuck it!”, ignore my conscience and just do whatever I want.  From not fucking a girl who gets drunk and throws herself at me (see earlier entry) to not fucking the girl I’m secretly in love with (and recently just found out is into the same fucked-up shit as me, see earlier entry) because I don’t want to risk breaking up her new family and have her baby grow up without a father I’d had enough.  I hoped I could just turn heel like a WWE wrestler, stop giving any fucks and take what I wanted, when I wanted.

 

But no.

 

Before I say the next bit, let me just preface with:  EVEN HYPOTHETICAL “BAD” DOORMAT DAN WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS.  My version of being bad is sleeping with women already in relationships, and not giving a shit about the consequences to them.  Cheating on women I’m in relationships with.  Not turning down drunk women throwing themselves at me.  You know, like all my friends and most of the people I know.

 

I’ve actually envied a man who hit, raped, cheated on and abused women after a long screaming argument on the phone with one of his victims, who insisted she could change him even after her mother couldn’t and they were involved for a decade.  Yes, you heard that right.  The disgusting cunt was cheating on the mother with her teenage daughter a third of his age.  If there was anyone on this planet I could kill and get away with it, it’d be him.  Years later, he’s still somehow with the mother, the daughter has thankfully moved away but she’s damaged from what happened.  Why does he get whatever he wants, get away with it, somehow not get sent to jail and even years later still gets to fuck and beat the mother?  It breaks my heart.  It makes me feel empty and like there’s no point to anything.

 

He got whatever he wanted and the women he hit or forced himself upon came back to him again and again.  They fucking begged for it.  They defended him.  He was “dreamy” and “gorgeous”.  They fucking stopped being my friend because I got mad and told them what I thought of their abuser for the millionth time after one of them came to me crying because he’d roughed her up.  They were good people who should have known better and it tore me to shreds seeing them suffer over and over.

 

My biggest turn on for sex is someone giving themselves to me.  Being wanted is what makes me hard.  I can be as rough as someone wants, but always and only with full consent of that person.

 

So back to my aborted heel turn, even after many drinks I couldn’t ask my friend (the one who got drunk and naked weeks ago) to fuck me.  I couldn’t pressure my best friend into sex even though I’m pretty sure she’d say yes (random aside: She got changed in front of me yesterday, no fucks given.  Oh my god she’s beautiful).  I can’t do it.  I hoped if I drank enough I’d take that one biggest and most difficult first step, and the rest would come easily.  Part of me thinks I’m weak and a failure, and another part thinks it’s a good thing.  But even if it’s a good thing, to what end?  I’m still not getting sex, the people who are are total assholes and I don’t believe in any god or afterlife, so I’m not accumulating any “heaven points” for being a good boy.

 

So is being good an end unto itself?  I’m not proud of not getting what I want.  I’m frustrated.  People like me, but they all move on to other people.  I’m boring.  But I guess it’s my calling.