Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Tormented Butterfly

Someone shoot me with a loaded revolver.

This cold turkey thing is ridiculous. I made a point of coming online late tonight. And the minute I got on msn I blocked him. I think it's bad that I am constantly here (online). I think it's bad that we're talking daily. I don't feel valued. I don't feel precious to him. I don't feel important.

I've never been good at getting what I deserve. I give out way too much too early and too easily. And I can't for the life of me figure out how to fix or change things. Not being able to talk to you tonight hurts me so badly. It kills me inside. I want so desperately to talk to you. You are like an addiction. Cocaine, heroin, I can't explain. I can't rid you out of my life. I can't rinse you away with a scrubbing brush. I can't bleach you out of my life.

Sometimes I just want to scream and bang my head against a wall and fall unconcious so I don't have to deal with this anymore. You're putting me through hell, and I'm taking it. I feel trapped in this situation and there's no out. I'm dying inside and I'm forcing myself to be patient with you.

And again and again, the same phrases go around and around in my head. I'm driving myself insane.

Please, someone, anyone, just shoot me with a loaded revolver and get this over with. I beg you.

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