|
FairyTale Ending
I feel like I'm making this up, all my pain, all my sorrows. Nothing goes farther than skin deep. My life's not so bad, is it? I always talk about pain so deep, but I want to keep that pain close. It's the only thing that keeps me from blending in with the blur of faces outside my rain streaked window. And I know things wont happen like I want them to, like they happen in books. I'm not a beautiful girl with a painful past, they can't write songs about my life. No gorgeous boy will appear out of nowhere and help heal my heart while I heal his, I won't end up with my sweet best friend who I've had a crush on forever, no supernaturally sexy guy will swoop in to save me from impending doom, I wont melt the stone heart of a tough guy who really just wanted to be loved all along. I'll go one with my life, complaining about what a terrible person my mom is and I have no one who can understand me, though I'll gladly spill my life story to try to gain the absolute trust and care I crave. I can whine about my looks but I know I'll never do anything about it. I pretend to be deep, to be in so much pain, to fight back like a rebel, to be numb. But I fear I will NEVER be the person I want to be. I'm no damsel in distress and I WILL use you to give myself more problems, I'll feed off your pain. And I'll write poems and stories about sadness and lost love to sound mysterious and brooding. But it's becoming clear that the biggest problem with my life is me. So why not eliminate the issue at its source? I wont be strong enough to pull you off the ledge, all my words can't cure you, and I know I don't make anyone happy. I'm an annoying hum in the background that tries to force itself into a limelight it doesn't deserve. I'm easily jealous and vicious in a fight. If I'm losing I'll do whatever it takes to win in my own eyes. I always win, I'm always right. I want to be like all these fictional girls, in love with all these fictional boys. I want to be creative and beautiful and smart like my best friend. I want to be tortured and to breakdown completely. I want something constant, something to rely on. I don't even know who or what I am anymore. Can you tell me? Didn't think so... No matter how many sad songs I memorize I know I'll never act on my desires Where would I be once I reached my goals? My island in the night? My someplace at midnight? WHY CAN'T I HURT MORE?! I want to be able to make a REAL connection to sad songs and my books. I need this pain, I need a real battle to fight. And maybe this wanting IS my pain. But maybe this is all made up in my head to give me something to think about when I am bored. I need someone to break me, to rattle me up. Will you please be my savior, even if that means you'll be my destruction? I can't do this alone...
|
