My Insanity

I’m so fucking sorry. You have no idea. I’m so sorry. Because you’re about to go through hell. For me. I’m sorry i can’t trust. I’m sorry I can’t commit. I’m sorry I over think everything. I’m sorry I’m so damaged. So beyond repair. So fucking beyond repair. I’ve been hurt so bad. I know you think you know what I’ve been through but you don’t. I know you think from the outside it doesn’t look so bad. But it was bad. All of it. Everything. Just because I forgave and I joke about it doesn’t mean I’m okay. I’m not okay. That’s why I’m so sorry for what I’m going to put you through. I don’t want to. But I want to try. I want to try this. I just know I can’t without hurting both of us. I can’t say the things you say or act like you do. I can’t because of the risk. Saying those things it means putting my real feelings out there. It means risking the pain again. Again. And I know you’re good. Everyone knows. And I know you won’t hurt me on purpose. But I can’t help but look to the past. When I thought the exact same things. When I had my heart ripped out. So you have to understand. You have to know how sorry I am. That I can’t be vulnerable. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I hope someday. I really do hope. But for now all I can say is I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Do you want to hear all about my characters? All those ones I mentioned I had hidden away in my head? I suppose if you really knew them all you’d know the real me. They’re all part of me. Part of who I am. Some of them are my ideal. The person I wish i could be. The person I know I could be. I’ll start at the beginning I guess. My first character and the one who started it all. Karenna Maine. She’s beautiful. Blonde hair, grey eyes, average height, thin but muscular. She’s perfect. She’s the girl everyone is drawn to. Everyone wants to be around her. To be like her. She’s a leader and when she talks people listen. All she really wants is to be accepted. She’s afraid of doing something wrong. Of making people hate her. So she can be cruel. To save her own reputation. To keep her place with the people who get noticed. She gossips. She takes both sides in a fight and she assures each side they’re her only choice. She lies. But she won’t hurt anyone. Behind the cool facade she just wants everyone she loves to be happy. She just wants herself to be happy. I guess Kaia is next. Kaia Moretti. She’s brunette, dark dark brown eyes, short, tiny, weak. She’s strong. She can always put on a happy face. She can always appear to remain calm even when she’s freaking out internally. But she’s very very guarded. She won’t give her heart to just anyone. You have to earn her trust. If you want to her to really open up to you. But once she trusts you she trusts you with everything. She gives you everything. Nova Asher is my newest character. Nova’s unconventionally beautiful. She has dirty blonde hair and chocolate eyes. Some days she could be in the cover of a magazine. Some days she looks like a zombie. But she’s strong. Physically sort of. Emotionally for sure. She is that rock that everyone looks to for support. She might not be a first choice to introduce yourself to but it’s worth it. She looks angry sometimes. Mean even but she’s not. She’s calm and collected and she’ll support you through anything. She may not be the best with words but she’s a damn good listener. So there you have it. My main characters. One of them is the main character in almost everything I do. They all have at least three stories they inhabit. So far. I suppose I’d have to change them if I ever wanted to write it down. But now you see just how invested I am in this. Just how crazy. That’s all I have to say for now. That’s my insanity.

Why me? That’s my biggest question? Why me? Why in the world would you even think you want someone like me? No. Not someone like me, me. Why would you want me? I don’t get it. Listen before you say something like ‘you’re great’. That’s not a reason. And I’m not great. Why me? I’m crazy. I hold on to old fashioned family values. I still listen to what my parents tell me. I’d rather have super at my grandparents house than go to some party with all kinds of drunk people I don’t really know. And that’s not even the crazy part. I don’t like vacuuming because I think people could sneak up on me. I hear voices when my furnace come on. I have characters in my head. They have names and personalities and they go in all my stories. I act like they’re real people. I worry about what might happen to them. Even though I control their fake lives. And I have stories in my head. Even more than I have characters. So many stories that i cant decide what to write first. Sometimes I whisper to myself at night. I tell all the stories in my head to myself. And that’s not even the half of it. There’s so much more. So there you have it. There’s half my crazy. There’s everything I’m too afraid to tell you. Even though you know parts already. So ill ask the question again. Why me? What amongst all of this makes you still want me? Or do you anymore after hearing this? And do you want to hear the rest? I was bad. I was bad for a very long time and I’m still only just getting better. I hated myself. I hated my body. I hated my personality. I hated my feelings. So I did things. I tried not to eat so much. It was hard but I tried. I weighed less than I do now. I hurt myself. That’s the hardest thing to tell you. To tell anyone. Because I’m ashamed. I have scars but you’d never know I gave them to myself. They could be from anything. I feel like people wouldn’t understand. There’s nothing wrong with me life. I have it pretty easy. I can’t tell you why I did it. I still don’t know. I just was bad. I was in a bad place. Like I said before I hated myself. I felt unwanted and unloved. I was alone. Or at least I thought I was. I felt like it. But I’ll tell you now damn could I act. I had everyone fooled. I looked fine. I acted fine. I hid the scars. I hid the pain. And to this day I don’t know if anyone knows what really happened to me in that time. I guess now you do. So now I’m healing. All of the scars are just scars. There is nothing new or fresh anymore. I’m standing on my feet again. I’m healthy and I think I’m genuinely happy. I think. At least I know I’m close to being happy. I like who I am now. And I’m starting to like what I see in the mirror. Starting to. I still see hate in my eyes but it’s getting better. Now can you tell me why? Why me? I’m not complete. Not yet. So why?

I’m terrified I just fucked everything up. How long have I been waiting for something so perfect as that moment and I just shook my head. No that’s a lie I straight up said no. I said no. Who does that? I promise I regret it already. But I’m just so afraid. I’m not afraid of losing the friendship, not anymore. I’m afraid of being hurt again. I’m afraid of having to say goodbye again. I’m afraid of believing in someone who is just going to let me down. I know I can’t count on past experience to tell me what might happen but I still can’t help but look back. I’m no exactly the luckiest person you see. I don’t know. I call it luck but maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s me and all my insanity. Maybe other people aren’t luckier. Maybe they’re just more. More than I am. Better than I am. So you see how afraid I am? Everything I’ve ever had has ended before it ever began and I suppose that’s what I’ve come to expect. My hellos are attached to goodbyes. Closely attached. I’m afraid of doing the one little thing that’s going to mess it all up. Only problem is I don’t know what that one thing is. I have no idea where I go wrong every time. And it’s terrifying. So please be patient. Be forgiving. I don’t want to lose this too. I can’t. I can’t.