I just never cared anymore. Not about anything. For some reason, I just let everything alone. Nothing mattered to me anymore. Nothing. The things that had made me happy previously had now just made me even more…dull. Maybe all the things he did to me made me like this. Trevor never really was good to anyone, not even any girlfriends he had. He never showed me that he cared, he was always cold, and he always… hurt me.
Or maybe my mother’s drinking habits. She was always at the bar, and when she wasn’t, she had a different bottle in her hand every minute or so. I was surprised she hadn’t died of alcohol poisoning yet. She ignored me unless it was to tell me how stupid I was, how fat I was. I wasn’t even fat. Actually, I guess I could be considered anorexic. My ribs were easy to spot, even if I did eat like a pig. Maybe that’s why she said I was fat. She couldn’t really see physical appearances very well. She was blind to things like that, but she could always see me eat.
Or maybe it was the fact that my father left. He had run off when I was seven for no reason, and I remember my mother saying that he had run off with another woman. I didn’t really understand what she’d meant at the time, but now that I looked back on it, I could perfectly see why she would say that. If she had said that now, however, I wouldn’t even think twice about it, but she had said that before she had even started drinking any. I wasn’t even sure if she remembered my dad anymore. She probably didn’t. She constantly forgot that I even existed, even if I was right next to her.
Or maybe it was my lack of self confidence, or the way I saw things in life, or how I felt unneeded, unloved, or how I couldn’t distribute my thoughts at all well, or how I felt close to death all the time, or maybe the fact that our apartment was too small for me, my mom, and my older brother who just lost his custody battle with his ex-wife for his home and twins. Maybe it was everything.
Maybe I was looking too hard into my depression.
Maybe, it all just needed to stop.
That was it, it needed to end. I opened up my small bedroom window; for once my small size came in handy for something useful. I didn’t jump, that’d be fatal. I searched for a nearby clothesline, and luckily there was my neighbors’ just in arm’s reach. I grabbed hold of it. Once again, my small size proved useful. I pulled my self over to a nearby awning, which was low to the ground and right below me. I let go of the clothesline and fell onto the awning and bounced once. Again my small size was useful. I climbed down and walked in the direction of the bus stop and immediately wished I had brought some clothing. Or some money, but I didn’t really have any.
The bus pulled up almost immediately. It was rather empty, which was no surprise considering the time of night. I took a seat on the back to enjoy what little solitude I could. I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t know how I’d survive, I didn’t know who I’d meet, but I didn’t care. I was free, and that was all I cared about.
Or maybe my mother’s drinking habits. She was always at the bar, and when she wasn’t, she had a different bottle in her hand every minute or so. I was surprised she hadn’t died of alcohol poisoning yet. She ignored me unless it was to tell me how stupid I was, how fat I was. I wasn’t even fat. Actually, I guess I could be considered anorexic. My ribs were easy to spot, even if I did eat like a pig. Maybe that’s why she said I was fat. She couldn’t really see physical appearances very well. She was blind to things like that, but she could always see me eat.
Or maybe it was the fact that my father left. He had run off when I was seven for no reason, and I remember my mother saying that he had run off with another woman. I didn’t really understand what she’d meant at the time, but now that I looked back on it, I could perfectly see why she would say that. If she had said that now, however, I wouldn’t even think twice about it, but she had said that before she had even started drinking any. I wasn’t even sure if she remembered my dad anymore. She probably didn’t. She constantly forgot that I even existed, even if I was right next to her.
Or maybe it was my lack of self confidence, or the way I saw things in life, or how I felt unneeded, unloved, or how I couldn’t distribute my thoughts at all well, or how I felt close to death all the time, or maybe the fact that our apartment was too small for me, my mom, and my older brother who just lost his custody battle with his ex-wife for his home and twins. Maybe it was everything.
Maybe I was looking too hard into my depression.
Maybe, it all just needed to stop.
That was it, it needed to end. I opened up my small bedroom window; for once my small size came in handy for something useful. I didn’t jump, that’d be fatal. I searched for a nearby clothesline, and luckily there was my neighbors’ just in arm’s reach. I grabbed hold of it. Once again, my small size proved useful. I pulled my self over to a nearby awning, which was low to the ground and right below me. I let go of the clothesline and fell onto the awning and bounced once. Again my small size was useful. I climbed down and walked in the direction of the bus stop and immediately wished I had brought some clothing. Or some money, but I didn’t really have any.
The bus pulled up almost immediately. It was rather empty, which was no surprise considering the time of night. I took a seat on the back to enjoy what little solitude I could. I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t know how I’d survive, I didn’t know who I’d meet, but I didn’t care. I was free, and that was all I cared about.
Hate.Disappointment.Regret.They all make up some of the worst thing in our lives...then why can't we just give it up?Give it up and just throw all our problems away?The answer is simple because this,this is reality not a fairytale or some fiction story,where the writer can just have their way over their characters like puppets.No.Not at all in reality does one have their way to control their life or the lies that people tell them.There's no stopping your troubles in life or changing the regret you've made in the past ...it's life.
such a waste, my life whole life is a fake!...but im sure ive been a thorn inside of you...that's torn at you for years. but, sometimes i can taste how bitter i've become...& its more then i can bare. sometimes i pray for someone to blow me away. just make it quick, but let it burn...so i can feel the pain thats torn at me for years. i can't be held responsable, 'cause this is all so new to me. can i...leave my pain behind?
the sercomstances of one's birth are irrelavent. its what you DO with the gift of life, that determends who you are. the pain you feel...its normal. let it go.
you think?
yes. you need to forgive and forget.
i can't...
you can.
but i can't just do nothing...
it's not nothing!
i cant just...forget.
it's hard to forgive, and its hard to forget, but it's easy to do nothing...
you're right...
the sercomstances of one's birth are irrelavent. its what you DO with the gift of life, that determends who you are. the pain you feel...its normal. let it go.
you think?
yes. you need to forgive and forget.
i can't...
you can.
but i can't just do nothing...
it's not nothing!
i cant just...forget.
it's hard to forgive, and its hard to forget, but it's easy to do nothing...
you're right...