The Tell-Tale Heart

BREAKING NEWS: The Pity Train has just derailed at the inter­sec­tion of Suck It Up & Move On, and crashed into We All Have Prob­lems, before com­ing to a com­plete stop at Get the Heck Over It. Any com­plaints about how we oper­ate, can be for­ward­ed to 1–800-waa-aaah with Dr. Snif­fle Report­ing LIVE from Quitchur Bitchin’.

This isn’t one of those woe-is-me posts. I’m just pon­der­ing on what’s been hap­pen­ing and need­ed an avenue to speak my mind, as I don’t feel like talk­ing to any liv­ing per­son at all, and you don’t lis­ten or want to talk any­way. It hurts when you keep try­ing your best and it is still wasn’t good enough. I feel like I can’t do any­thing right any­more. I asked you an inno­cent ques­tion, and I was told to quit it. I was appar­ent­ly try­ing to stir some­thing up. I didn’t even know what was wrong with my ques­tion. I was that good—stir some sh*t up with­out mean­ing to. This time, I didn’t even have to do any­thing at all, yet I’m accused of “enjoy­ing” the dra­ma. Just wow. I have no words. It makes me won­der why you are still with me when I can’t do any­thing right in your eyes. You just can’t wait until I com­mit some per­ceived blun­der and rub it in my face.  Trust me, I’m hard enough on myself, thank you very much. I don’t need any­one con­stant­ly remind­ing me I suck.blur-blurred-background-bokeh-870866_opt.jpg

It’s fun­ny when some parts of your life seem to doing great, the rest falls spec­tac­u­lar­ly into pieces. My career is in full swing, I have a great boss, I love my job, I’m a few pounds away from my body goals then life throws you a curved ball—one of the few good men I know dies hor­ri­bly, my love life is…you know, why would I be writ­ing this if it’s all hearts and ros­es. And oh, I know you are read­ing this, you psy­cho who can’t take a hint- are you hap­py now? I thought you were a good per­son. If you love me as you claim, LEAVE.ME.THE.F*CK.ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE!

When anniver­saries are approach­ing, most cou­ples are hap­py or excit­ed. All I could think of is I wish I have some whisky now, or not wake up, or I wish I nev­er made this blog, or maybe I should delete this. I remem­ber being excit­ed around this time last year. I was very hap­py, you want­ed to cel­e­brate the 4th of July with me. We were togeth­er. Now all I have are mem­o­ries, and anoth­er hol­i­day to dread. I guess it’s gonna be me and John­ny or Jose again for this hol­i­day. You will just for­get the date any­way, like you for­got my birth­day last year. I’m not being neg­a­tive (one of my endear­ing qual­i­ties that you point­ed out), I don’t want to be dis­ap­point­ed again either. I am try­ing to man­age my expec­ta­tions. I’ve been think­ing if you still love me.

Then I real­ized I don’t love me enough, and that’s how I under­stand maybe why you don’t either.

But I pray you do, and that I am wrong. I hate being wrong but this is the one time I hope I’m so wrong. Do I love you? With all my heart and you know it. I don’t wish that you love me the way I want to be loved—I just want you to love me the way you know how.

I hate when we are like this. It makes me phys­i­cal­ly sick. You know I’m not very good in pre­tend­ing to be okay when I’m not. I hate that. It takes a lot of ener­gy to smile and put on a hap­py face. I have no more fight left in me. You win.

It has been said the heart is the strongest mus­cle. I’d like to think I got my Dad’s heart—unwavering when faced with obsta­cles. Be strong, heart, do not fail me now. Have courage, and still strive to be kind even when oth­ers aren’t.

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