The night after seeing you.

I'm still awake at two in the morning of August 14th. My mind is racing and I've finally hit the tears. I grab a Sharpie and write in small letters on the wall: 1. I need to leave. I need to rupture the framework of this reality and break into a new one. Live a different life than is handed to you. It's getting too easy to be... nevermind. I lost the words in a drop of saltwater tainted with a wish.

"Silence is the loudest parting word you never say. Now a voiceless sympathy is all that remains."
~Ben Harper

In another spurt of this strange sob sessions, I write above it: 2. Do REAL good fro humanity. Get out while you still can.

On a different wall this time: 3. A pair of eyes are always staring in at me. I wish they were real.

4. I'd like to go crazy now. Maybe I should try my skills at resisting the words of therapists and mental institutions. Maybe that would do the trick. At least I would have something more to escape from then my own selfishness.

5. The only thing I'm fighting is myself and my accidental acceptance of the world in which I live. Silly me. Of all rebellions, I had to pick the hardest.

6. Sleep deprivation makes great fuel for thought. It maddens the spirit just enough.

7. When my lips are dry, I put on chapstick. How many people do that?

For some reason I found no number eight the next morning.

9. Whatever I do fresh from high school, I hope it is physically uncomfortable to prove I can be content anywhere.

10. This is the last one because I dropped the better Sharpie behind a shelf. I'm entertained to imagine reading these to find I have idea why I wrote such random, trite shit. : )

And I honestly don't. It really is a sad thing when I try to be dramatic, but this is how my night went, I suppose. You can check my walls to find the thoughts of a maddened heart staring back at you. I'm glad I saw you again, person. I was hoping I would.

Here is the truth, finally

To quote Ricky Fitz, “never underestimate the power of denial.”

This sentence has been striking the framework of my thoughts lately and I haven’t known why. What exactly am I in denial of? The fact that I am becoming dependent on substances I ridicule all the time? The fact that I am living about five different lives right now? The fact that I am watching myself sink into a life I never wanted and doing nothing about it? Or is the fact that I am rushed with guilt every time I think of you (Make that six different lives, come to think of it.) How can I explain to you that the only part of me you have ever seen is an absolute lie? A blatant, intricate lie.

You would hate me if you knew me. This is the simple truth. I am the very essence of everything you are against, but how can I say this to your face? Surly you must know somewhere within you that the concept of “me” is not real. I hope that you have known this for a long time. I trust that you can feel it. I have been so terrible to you and now I have nothing to do but continue on like this, hating myself in the process. You seem to love me so wholly. You are so trusting and I don’t deserve that. I am not to be trusted. You are treading your water way too far from the shore. You are in danger. Get out now.

So now I have but to hope that you will read this soon. I hope you are not broken. Just don’t trust me anymore, please.

We can’t be together. You know that. I can’t keep living inside of this lie. I can’t let you in and I can’t come out. I love you so, so much, but for that reason I have to let you go. You deserve the best and I think I finally have the courage to say that isn’t me. I was in denial.

Claire,

We have a lot to learn. Get ready.