I’m a truly terrible person.
I have nobody to talk to! Nobody. Most people have someone they can call when something is eating away at their soul. I want to call my best friend, but your cheating whore changed your phone number and blocked mine from your phone. The last time I mentioned you being with her, disgust walked across your face and fear crept into your eyes. Tell me. How does it feel to be intertwined with a woman you despise? I’ll never understand how I became the one on the altar; sacrificed for a twig of a blond spewing words of a junkie imbecile. Such mystifying awareness is my bane. When I need to hear your voice… or just the wisdom of my muse… I want to scream at her – I want to break her – for giving you the power to make me doubt myself. But if my self-esteem were higher, maybe I would be inspired to realize her lack of trust in me and all but existent faith in you means I’m the cryptic champion. Before you let your addict slut set fire to my grave and dance in her blood lust glory, it may behoove you both to remember your heart has freely chosen accommodation within my suksma sarira.
Tonight I wanted to tell you I feel hideous. I don’t want to spend time with my boyfriend’s children. I just want to do something laid back and quiet. For that I know I’m doomed to live life alone… to die alone in a hospital bed surrounded by ghosts of children I never had and the memory of a man who never truly loved me beyond the promised words of his lips. Why can’t I just enjoy the children so I can be in a wonderful relationship with a man who loves me?
(This is the part where your sage words comfort me; answering all my questions, and erasing my doubts.)